


Raven: An Unexpected Adventure

by Aerlinniel722



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Battle of Five Armies - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Family Feels, Female Bilbo, Female Bilbo Baggins/Thorin Oakenshield, M/M, Minor Fíli/Original Male Character, Minor Kíli/Tauriel, Minor M/M, Overprotective Dwarves, Post-Battle of Five Armies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2018-11-08 01:58:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 164,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11071668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aerlinniel722/pseuds/Aerlinniel722
Summary: After the Battle of Five Armies, Bilba Baggins fled Erebor and her new King in disgrace with a secret. Fifteen years later, when Dís swears she sees a hobbit who looked like her brother… well, perhaps a certain burglar isn't as dead as it was initially assumed.





	1. Preface

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I wish I owned The Hobbit, but I don't. All recognizable trademarks in this story belong to Tolkien and Jackson etc. respectively.  
> AU: Bilbo is Bilba in this story, she and Thorin are involved, and nobody died at the Battle of Five Armies. I'm not entirely sure what else is going to come into play yet, so I guess we'll just wait and see!

**AN:** Thanks for reading, and if you like it please leave me a review and let me know what you think :)

* * *

_preface_

Bilba

* * *

_**April 2942** _

 

Bilba Belladonna Baggins crested the rise, and wanted to cry with relief at the sight of her familiar hill. It had been exactly a year to the day since she had run out of that same cozy hobbit hole. She probably had run right over this very spot, not even noticing it or bothering to look back because she was too caught up in catching the Company before they left and she lost all hope of escape. She had missed the Shire at first, had almost longed for Bag End and her comfy chair by the fire with its security. Bilba knew it was because she’d felt so alone amidst the Company at first, lost in their cultural references and confounded by their use of Khuzdul in her presence. Hell, if her father Bungo had seen what she’d done, had heard what she said to fit in, earn a few laughs, and ultimately to get their respect then he would be rolling in his grave. All of his life Bungo Baggins had done everything in his power to ensure that Bilba would come out as a proper little Baggins heir. When she was younger he had always tried to use female company to improve on her manners, hoping that the hobbit lasses’ hobbies would rub off. It never did. When Bungo succumbed to a flu, shortly after Belladonna Took was murdered fighting off the wargs during the Fell Winter, Bilba was no less wild. If she could change things, then Bilba wished her father could have seen her the way she was before the Company showed up on her doorstep. It wasn’t because she liked the Bilba before the Company, or because she regretted going with them, not even now. She might be coming back alone and in her condition, but she wished that Bungo could have seen her just once as a respectable hobbit, wished that he could have honestly told her at least once that he was proud of her.

Back before the Company, Bilba had become the right proper hobbit lass; the daughter that Bungo had always dreamed of. She might not have had love or much family in her life, but she’d been respected. Or, respected until she opened her door to find Thorin Oakenshield on her front step. Then, respectability had all gone to hell.

There simply was no other way to put it. Bilba sighed and tried to turn her mind away from the dwarf king, but it was a hopeless endeavour. They hadn’t gotten along very well, he had scoffed at her attempt to join them and she had become determined to prove him wrong at every turn. She had started with Fíli, Kíli, and Ori, befriending the younger dwarrow and from there she’d let her Tookish determination take control. Sure, she might have messed up a few times, the trolls hadn’t been her best moments, nor had falling off the side of the Mountain after Rivendell, but Thorin hadn’t been able to rid himself of her as he’d first planned. Instead, she’d gotten under his skin; what she had tried time and time again to ignore, however, was the way that he’d gotten under hers as well. As though to remind her of exactly how under her skin Thorin Oakenshield had gotten, Bilba felt a fluttering in her lower abdomen.

“I know, we’re almost home.” Bilba found herself whispering, as she stroked the bump before pulling her cloak closer around her and looking back to the hill. She might have once thought about coming back to the Shire, but after she’d gotten to know the dwarrow she realized that it had never really been that strong of a dream. She hadn’t fit in before and she certainly wouldn’t now, but Bag End was the onlyhome she had left. She was a Baggins, after all, she wasn’t about to beg room and board off of someone else. She had her family’s money and home, and she’d raise her child here. Straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, Bilba looked back at the hill. She had faced down trolls, goblins, wargs, spiders, and even a living dragon not to mention the many other far more fearsome situations she’d been in. Bilba could ride back to her smial without shame. She had to.

Hobbiton was just as busy as she remembered, filled with brightly-dressed hobbits bustling about, up and down the hill just like normal. Up and down the hill; it was like there was a party, not that Bilba really felt up for partying. Still, it was almost like they were having a party for her, after all, they were coming in and out of her hobbit hole and they had presents. Then, Bilba’s travel-weariness fell away and she realized that they were coming in and out of Bag End, and it wasn’t presents that they were carrying; it was her furniture.

The curse that issued from her lips was a dwarvish one, Kíli had taught it to her, and for a moment she felt a pang of longing for her dwarrow, but then she kicked her poor pony in the flanks and headed towards her house. The hobbits in her way jumped to the side, horrified and scandalized, but as she’d juste reminded herself, the returning Bilba Baggins had faced a lot worse than gossiping hobbits; or at least that was what she told herself as she arrived at her beautiful round green door.

 

* * *

 

Later on, she’d admit that drawing Sting when she was questioned about her identity hadn’t been the wisest choice, but exhausted, hungry, pregnant and hurt she hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly. Plus, it had cleared the hobbits out quickly, and perhaps most of her furniture and belongings were gone, but she could lock her door and hide away from all of it and, it was hardly like she hadn’t slept on the ground before.

No, it wasn’t until the next morning when she tried to go to the market and buy food that she realized the colossal mistake she’d made. She might have changed, but the hobbits of the Shire hadn’t. They still dealt in the pettiness of gossip, and Bilba had made herself the centre of exactly that. No one would sell to her, especially not once Lobelia Sackville-Baggins spotted her pregnant belly bump, and after that things got even worse.

 

* * *

 

_**Six Months Later** _

_**September 22, 2942** _

 

At a grand total of eleven months, Bilba was long past the point of a full-term hobbit pregnancy.What Bilba had to remember though, was that her daughter wasn’t just a hobbit. Unfortunately though, none of the books that Elrond had in Imladris had information on dwarrow pregnancies. Apparently, like Khuzdul, their reproduction was a closely guarded secret. At times, waddling around the yard of her little smial Bilba wanted to kill them all for it. She was larger than she ever imagined was possible with no idea of when she could expect to be put out of her discomfort. What she didn’t like to think about was also how this baby was going to be born. Every passing day, Bilba’s child grew bigger, and alone at the smial, she felt as her fear continued growing. If she needed help, if anything went wrong, if her child grew any bigger; the what-ifs went on and on and worst of all there was no one that she could turn to, no one to ask. Gandalf had promised her that he would check in, but not once had he shown up, and Bilba would be lying if she hadn’t been waiting and hoping that he would come, but perhaps since she was now a double exile perhaps he didn’t care about her either. Bilba sighed and tried not to cry. She’d never thought she was dependent on others, but being completely isolated was fraying her nerves. Not being able to speak to anyone didn’t help with it. Nor, Bilba supposed, did stealing her food. Sure she had started a garden, but it wasn’t enough so several times a week she found herself donning her magic ring and going around the countryside. She knew better than to go to the town closest to her, but she also had a pony and so she’d ride farther afield and if a few hobbits found pies sitting on windowsills gone well, with so many fauntlings afield little nobody Bilba once-a-Baggins was not going to be their main suspect.

It had been nearly six months since Bilba had fled Bag End. She would have liked to say her move was of her own choice; it wasn’t. Without anyone to sell her food or anything else, and with most of her possessions, she had left Hobbiton. Bag End might have been her home, but a home was worth nothing if you couldn’t survive. When she left it might have been in the middle of the night, but Bilba reasoned it was because she didn’t want to put up with the crowds of gossipers. She’d gone to the Bucklands, far from inquisitive Took relatives, and on the edge of the Old Forest where few hobbits would venture. Once there, she’d moved in to an abandoned smial,it was falling apart, but she’d cleaned it up as best as she could, given the empty windows shutters, and replaced the rotten door. Then, she’d moved her cart full of possessions inside and begun her garden using the few seeds and small plants that she’d brought with her from Bag End. They were all she needed, she told herself, and it was true. She had food to eat and a place to sleep; it might not be anything like Bag End’s grandeur and, if her dwarrow ever did manage to track her to this little place, well, she knew they’d never all fit inside.

Her dwarrow. She missed them painfully, and it would be a lie to say she hadn’t thought of going back to Erebor and simply facing her fate there. To be shunned as Bilba had been in Hobbiton was a fate akin to death according to hobbit standards. She had no money, a horrible place to live in, almost not enough food, and she was alone. It was miserable and she hated it, but then she thought about her daughter; her unborn daughter. To return to Erebor as an exile though, that would be a death sentence and Bilba was too much of a coward to actually do it. She’d packed a bag on more than one occasion before, but then she’d unpacked it. Shunned or not, she could still be a good mother she hoped and, after all, she’d always wanted to have fauntlings. Of course she’d pictured marrying a hobbit and raising their children in Bag End. Then, after she’d joined Thorin Oakenshield, it had turned into a dream that included Thorin and even that damn mountain. Bilba wanted to say that if she could do it all over that she wouldn’t be so foolish, but the cold truth of the mater was she wouldn’t change anything; she’d love him all over again.

It was in the evening, after supper on her thirty-fourth birthday, and she was sitting by her small hearth, book in hand when she felt the first pang of pain. She set the book aside, knowing that it was past the point of reading. Sure, she’d managed to get her hands on a few healing books, but she was terrified. Doing her best to stay calm, Bilba stood and went to the kitchen, intending to make another cup of tea and to have warm water at hand. She wished she could call for help, a midwife or someone else, but that was obviously not an option anymore.

Instead, Bilba found herself pacing the kitchen, the pains gradually coming more frequently and she prayed to all the gods above that this would be an easy birth. She worried, though, increasingly that it would not be, and as the hours wore one she feared more and more that come the dawn she and the babe would be dead of complications.


	2. one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sixteen years later.

**AN:** Thank you all so much for the kudos, bookmarks and especially for my reviewers (YourRoommate, Lithiuwen2016, CartoonCouples101, Trelane83, Thilb0_Burrit0, Undeath, KingsGirl, Gaianna)! It’s been great to hear from you! I’m not entirely sure where this is going, but I guess we’ll see :) Happy reading and I’d love to hear more from you :D 

* * *

**PART ONE**

* * *

_one_

Raven

* * *

 

**_Buckland, by the Old Forest_ **

**_Early September 2958_ **

**_(sixteen years later)_ **

 

Raven was no longer a babe. No indeed, she might not look all of her fifteen years of age, but she was well on her way through adolescence. She was tall for a hobbit, already almost the same height as Bilba, her mother, though she only looked about eleven. Raven apparently took after her father, not that she and Bilba talked much about him. She had sapphire blue eyes and thick dark locks that were wavy, but not quite curly. In spite of her dwarvish features, however, her feet were larger and thicker-soled than a dwarrow’s, her ears were slightly pointed and, at least as of yet, she showed no signs of growing a beard. Sometimes, Raven suspected, it hurt Bilba to see her because of how much she reminded Bilba of Raven’s father, but such suspicions were never actually discussed.

 

* * *

 

Earlier on this particular mid-autumn day, Raven had woken up and checked her traps. Usually, Bilba came with her, but her Aunt Primula had been called back to Brandy Hall to tend to her ill father. Without her around, Bilba and Raven both had to work harder so she had taken it upon herself to go alone. The gardens were overflowing with crops to be tended to, harvested, and prepared before winter so Bilba couldn’t really spare the time to check the traps. Anyways, Raven was fifteen, going on sixteen, and she had done this before; she could take care of herself she reasoned.

Unfortunately, the lines were empty. One trap had been sprung, but its prey had gotten away to her disappointment. Raven saw to it that the traps were all still functioning and put a small amount of fresh bait in each one. The bait was precious left-over food that she, Bilba, and Aunt Primula had given up in the hopes of getting meat to add to their stews. The next time that she got to check the traps, Raven hoped that they’d be successful. Already, it had been nearly a month since she’d caught anything and with the coming winter, she’d have even less success.

The dwobbit, as Bilba affectionately called her, was headed back towards the smial when she heard the loud company. She quickly hid herself and waited. If Bilba knew how close to the road Raven was, then she’d be furious, but cutting back on the road was the quickest way back. Not to mention, without any meat, Raven knew that she’d have to venture into the village for supplemental provisions. There were only so many days that they could live on naught but fruit and vegetables. Judging by the sun, it had to be nearly ten in the morning, she guessed, so time if she wanted bread with her supper then she’d have to get to town fast. Raven clutched her dagger at her side, just in case, as the company passed above on the road. Bilba did not approve of her having it, but Raven knew better than to go out unarmed. While hobbits could typically be dealt with using fists, it wasn’t just hobbits that crossed this part of the Shire, and Raven had been out hunting anyways.

 

* * *

 

It didn’t take long for a dwarven company to come into Raven’s sight on the road. It was larger than some of the other caravans that Raven had seen, though really all it meant was that she had to wait longer for them all to pass. Dwarrow, as multiple dwarves preferred to be called, were usually fairly ignorant of their surroundings, and at least in that regard, Raven was lucky to have inherited Bilba’s hobbit stealth. Still, she didn’t want to take any risks of being caught because she had no way of knowing what would happen to her then.

Raven did not know the details about Bilba’s adventure with the dwarrow but she didn’t think that they were still on friendly terms. At least, that was the only reason Raven could think of for why she’d never met her father or the Company and why Bilba had never sought him out to help them. They’d had difficult winters before, and if Bilba was still friends with her dwarrow they should have come or she should have asked them for help. Moreover, when Raven had first told Bilba about the presence of dwarrow on the road the colour had drained from Bilba’s face. Raven knew that Bilba was afraid of nearly nothing, but while they welcomed Rangers and parties of elves, they hid from the dwarrow caravans that had become increasingly frequent.

In spite of how the caravans upset Bilba, however, Raven couldn’t help but study every party that she caught. She’d be lying if she said it wasn’t to try to catch a glimpse of her elusive father. Of course, Raven knew that her father had to be one of the Company members, and likely they were all still in Erebor, but she was still curious. Crouched in the bushes, Raven couldn’t help but shift to better her view and sate her growing curiosity. There were armoured dwarrow with this caravan, and while a few guards were usual, this was more than that. At the centre of the party, Raven caught sight of a dark-haired lady and a golden-haired dwarf. A balding dwarf rode at their sides, laughing loudly and Raven felt a shock of suspicion. Hair was both unique and a status of pride. Bilba had only ever mentioned one dwarf without a full head, and that was Dwalin. Raven shifted again, trying to get a better view of the bald dwarf’s head. Dwalin was supposed to have tattoos on his skull, and she wanted to know if her suspicions were right. The dark-haired dwarf woman, dwarrowdam she thought Bilba called them, suddenly turned and Raven froze. The dwarrowdam looked like her, Raven thought, with long black hair and blue eyes the same shade as Raven’s. her foot slipped suddenly, and the dwarrowdam who had only been glancing in her direction before studied the bushes in earnest while Raven froze. From her spot, Raven dared no move in case it would alert the dwarrowdam to where she was. Instead, she stared after the slowly-passing party, her chest tightening in fear and longing. For a fleeting moment Raven wondered what would happen if they found her. If they were her kin as she suspected, then would they help her and Bilba? Could they make their lives better, or would it end up being a mistake?

“ _Amad_?” The golden-haired dwarf asked when the dwarrowdam continued to stare in Raven’s direction.

“It’s nothing Fíli, I thought I saw something, but it must have been an animal.” Fíli. Raven’s heart raced in her chest. It had to be Dwalin then because Fíli would be Crown Prince and the dwarrowdam had to be Dís, Thorin’s sister. Raven felt a cold-sweat rush over her. She had always hoped that one of the caravans would tell her who her father was, and now it just had.

Dwalin shouted something in what Raven assumed was Khuzdul and the guards moved closer to their royalty while the party moved on at a faster pace. Raven stayed frozen where she was until she could no longer hear the clatter of hooves, the rattle of cart wheels over the rutted earth, or the clank of their armour. Then, she sprang up and ran back towards the smial.

Raven wanted to charge back and demand that Bilba tell her who her father was, or rather to confirm that her sire was Thorin Oakenshield, but she knew that she could not. Thorin. Bilba said the least about the infamous leader of the Company and Raven thought she now understood why. It was obvious that Bilba still cared for all of the Company, but Raven now wondered, did Bilba avoid talking about Thorin because of anger, fear, or love? She thought it might be the latter because whenever Bilba had told Raven stories about her adventures and the Company it made her sad. Childhood questions about Bilba’s adventures and her father had been met with a sad silence. The silence though wasn’t the only response that Bilba had when her past was brought up. Raven, who still shared a bed with Bilba in their tiny smial, had stopped asking as soon as she was old enough to realize that her questions about Bilba’s past, resulted in Bilba crying herself to sleep.

As Raven made her way back towards the smial she wondered what had drawn Fíli, Dís, and Dwalin from Erebor. As far as she knew they had not returned to the West since the quest, and for a moment she felt a flare of fear that they were here for Bilba. Then, Raven shook herself and thought about the matter more logically. It was autumn, and the later in the season it got the more dwarrow who habitually arrived for the celebration of Durin’s Day. Bilba had told Raven once about the celebration, but the tears that had come after that story were so terrible that Raven avoided ever mentioning Durin again let alone the holiday.

The sun told her that it was nearing mid-morning when she got back to the smial, and she could see Bilba kneeling in the garden, digging determinedly at their latest crop of potatoes. Knowing that she’d let something slip if she talked to Bilba now, and still feeling a little hurt by Bilba’s secret keeping, Raven kept to the trees and made a run for it behind Bilba’s back to the smial. Once there, she ducked inside, pocketing the coins that the flour would cost and then snuck to the shed where they stored the wagon. After checking that Bilba was still not looking in her direction she lifted it and hurried around the corner of the hill before Bilba could catch her. Once away from the smial, Raven set the wagon on the street and hurried on, pulling it behind her as quick as she could. At times like this, she was glad for her half-dwarrow heritage because it made her stronger than Bilba or Aunt Primula, and therefore better able to avoid them.

 

* * *

 

Raven was still caught up in her thoughts as she walked into town. Usually Aunt Primula accompanied her because the hobbits liked her better than Raven and, well, it also made Bilba less nervous to know that Raven wasn’t going off on her own. The little hobbit settlement at the edge of the Buckland was the only place in the Shire that Raven had ventured. She longed to go further though, to leave the Shire and explore Rivendell, Mirkwood and perhaps even to go as far as Erebor one day, but she kept her wishes to herself. Bilba was exhausted and stressed as it was, and if they went away travelling then no one would be there to tend to the crops and, when they returned, there would be no food.

Raven’s trips into the village were relatively rare. Since Bilba had returned to the Shire she had set up an arrangement for the Rangers to bring them provisions at the smial. Recently, however, they had not come and though she tried to hide her emotions, Bilba was worried. With the empty traps, even though there were plenty of fresh vegetables and fruits now, they were in desperate need of more food because Bilba, Primula, and Raven needed to start saving if they were to be able eat that winter. Raven knew from a lifetime of experience that the weeks ahead would be filled with making jams, jellies, relishes, and pickling things for the long winter. They could use Aunt Primula’s help, but she had already given up so much to help them, they wouldn’t take her from her sick father nor did they have any idea when to expect her back. Aunt Primula was hard working and always cheerful, which Bilba and Raven both needed. Additionally, she was not shunned like Bilba, and although the hobbits treated her warily, they still bargained with her.

Socially, as Bilba’s daughter, Raven was an anomaly. Bilba was shunned and Raven’s father was not a hobbit so folks either shunned Raven, as they did her mother, or gossiped as openly about her as they did with the few big folk who dared to appear in the Shire. Raven couldn’t say that what they said didn’t upset her, but it was really the accusations against Bilba that upset her. Unfortunately, the gossip was nothing new and she’d had to learn to ignore it. Aunt Primula always said that it would make them even madder if Raven never responded. Raven knew better than that. If she angered the hobbits, if they tried anything against Bilba, Primula, and Raven then they’d be helpless. They needed the hobbits to give them the extra food, not to drive them out and if Raven infuriated them enough then it might come to that. Save for a few particularly vile occasions Raven had made her Aunt proud, letting Primula’s faith bolster her resolve while she steadfastly ignored the gossip.

Today, however, without Aunt Primula at her side it was just Raven facing the whispers of the village. Already she’d had to take several deep breaths to keep herself from responding either with words or otherwise. Raven had a dagger hidden in her belt under her apron, and her childhood weapon, a sling, which was temptingly accessible, not to mention she thought she could probably punch out any hobbit who said the wrong thing.

Raven had grown up hunting, taking down many a squirrel and rabbit with her sling and she was a good shot. Killing for her food, Raven knew better than to hesitate. Recently, Bilba had even started to teach her how to use a bow and arrow. Granted, Bilba wasn’t exactly a fantastic shot, but they had a bow and Bilba let Raven practice with it. Unfortunately, with so many other tasks at hand, and their limited time to hunt, it was not an activity that they could devote long hours to.

Looking through the market for the few groceries and supplies that they need, Raven tried to distract herself with plans for the next week instead of listening to the gossip, but it was difficult. When it became too much for her already-frazzled nerves, Raven found herself walking as quickly as she could towards the miller’s; the rest of their shopping could wait until Aunt Primula was back. Other hobbits who were out and about stopped and stared, whispering loudly as she passed but Raven held her chin aloft and kept going. Hobbits were notorious for their gossip, and as the so-called ‘half-breed bastard daughter of a shunned hobbit’ even if she didn’t do anything to perpetuate it, the gossip always followed her.

Raven continued to ignore the whispers about her mother’s disgraceful conduct and speculations about her own lose nature. She might still be young, especially considering that she still looked only about eleven, but Raven was also old beyond her years. As sad as it might be, it was the simple truth because, when there were only the three of them living in isolation, there was no time for coddling. Raven knew how to be independent, she could take care of herself and she also knew how to ignore the whispers.

Having a dwarf for a father had never bothered Raven overmuch. Bilba had done a good job of assuring Raven that she loved her and making sure that her daughter never felt alienated for her differences. Ultimately, Raven knew though that Bilba and Aunt Primula’s love was all that she cared about. These hobbits could gossip as much as much as they liked; as long as Bilba and Aunt Primula loved her these strangers’ opinions mattered little to her.

That same determination was ultimately why Raven’s coins bought almost as much flour as she’d hoped they would. The miller, on the other hand, had learned that she didn’t just accompany her Aunt Primula, she learned from her. Raven couldn’t count how many times they had bought flour there before, but she could tell the miller the exact price that Aunt Primula paid and she’d showed him that, although they might not have spoken before, Raven knew how to haggle.

When the transaction was done Raven hefted the sack into her cart and headed briskly back along the row, anxious to leave the gossip behind her as the sun began to set. Bilba would be worried and Raven was beginning to feel guilty for having been gone so long.

Raven had been staring resolutely ahead, lost in thoughts about the dwarven party from earlier, and whether or not to mention their presence to Bilba when she fell to the ground hard. She hadn’t been looking up and therefore hadn’t noticed the figure until they collided. Raven felt a blush rise to her cheeks as she readied herself for insults, but instead of being yelled at she found an apology aimed her way.

“I’m sorry, Little One, I didn’t see you there-“ the man, for that was what he was, apologized. Curious, Raven looked up at him and saw shock run across his features as he looked over her again. She scrambled quickly to her feet, picking up the fallen handle to her wagon.

“I’m sorry, Sir.” she murmured, ducking her head before trying to circumvent him. She wouldn’t cower away from hobbits who already knew who and what she was, but strange big folk were another question entirely. Raven didn’t want to cause any trouble, and especially considering who she’d seen earlier, she knew better than to stir up any new gossip.

“I’m not a Sir,” he said, and she paused. “My name is Gandalf, and now that I’ve told you my name who might I have the honour of addressing?”

“Gandalf?” Raven blurted in surprise, looking back up at the wizard with a mix of hope and dread.

“Ah, so you do know my name, I thought you might, but come now, I’m still waiting for your name.” he insisted.

“Raven, at your service.” she gave him a quick curtsy, remembering her manners. She did know that name. Bilba had mentioned it before in her stories, but those stories also led to nights spent crying so Raven didn’t know whether Bilba would want to see her old friend or, if it would be better to send him on his way.

“Raven, yes, quite the fitting name. Raven Baggins I might presume?” he asked, and she scowled. Of course he would make that assumption. Likely, he didn’t even know about Bilba’s shunning.

“It’s just Raven,” she corrected, staring down at her dusty feet as she tried to debate whether Gandalf was a friend or a foe.

“Raven, an interesting choice of name, perhaps there is hope after all.” Gandalf muttered, seemingly to himself. “You’re Bilba’s daughter, aren’t you?” he asked.

“Yes, Mister Gandalf.” Raven replied politely, finally looking back up at him with determination. After all, there was little point in denying that fact. Any hobbit here could tell him the same.

“Well, as it so happens I’m here in the Shire looking for your mother. Quite the difficult hobbit she is to track down these days. I suppose though we may call it fate since we’ve bumped into each other.” Gandalf replied, and Raven frowned. Raven knew Gandalf’s name from Bilba’s stories, but no good ever seemed to come of people looking for them.

The first time that they’d had visitors it had been male hobbits. Bilba had chased them away with her sword, and there had been a few other times that she had defended their home with Sting. Bandits, youngsters up to no good, and a few other males. Bilba had called them suitors, but Raven didn’t think they wanted to romance her mother very seriously, after all, they hadn’t even brought flowers with them.

Raven continued to eye Gandalf suspiciously. He might once have been a friend, but the wizard had never come looking for them. Sure Bilba might be shunned, but he was supposed to know about hobbits, so surely he could have found them and they could have used his help many times over the years. In fact, the more that Raven thought about the wizard, the less she liked him. Bilba might be trustful, but Raven didn’t like outsiders.

“Why are you looking for her now?” she demanded boldly.

“Well, it’s been a while I wanted to catch up with her.” Gandalf said, trying to sound casual.

“It’s been fifteen years.” Raven reminded him flatly.

“Yes, I suppose it has. Time flies strangely, I’ll admit, and I have been away on business.” Raven glared skeptically at him. She could not tell if it was an apology or an excuse, not that she wanted to accept either. She could also tell that he was being vague and she didn’t like that any more. “Surely though, you could let your mother and I discuss this?” Gandalf asked.

“She’s not going on anymore adventures.” Raven said firmly.

“Well, business of that ilk will be for your mother and I to discuss, and besides, we are old friends after all.” the wizard dismissed. “Come now, I believe there are a lot of other things for us to speak about. I went by Bag End to look for her, but was turned away and told that she had left. It was only the Rangers who told me that I could find her in these parts.”

“If you’re such good friends then where were you when we needed help?” Raven demanded, her temper flaring. Still, she reasoned, the rangers were their friends, if they had told Gandalf where to look then perhaps he was no so bad? Still, she met the wizard’s gaze, watching for any response and was rewarded with a flicker of emotion. She didn’t know him enough to recognize it, but she thought it might have been remorse.

“I am sorry for that, I had no idea of what was happening. I have been busy in the South for the past several years.” the wizard elaborated a little from his earlier vagueness. Raven frowned. She didn’t like the way that he hid the truth, but she also realized it wasn’t her place to judge; it was Bilba’s.

“Fine. You can talk to my Ma, but if you upset her I’ll shoot you. I have my own bow now.” Raven finally decided, and the wizard offered her a smile and a slight nod of his head. Clearly he didn’t take her seriously, but perhaps that could work to her advantage. He certainly wouldn’t be the first to underestimate her capabilities.

“Very well.” he agreed. She turned back to her wagon, pulling it behind her as she marched out of the village, the whispers about her oddities growing. No doubt the next time that she tried to buy flour the price would have doubled, but the hobbits did not speak quite so loudly as before.They seemed unsure of how dangerous Gandalf was. He wielded a staff, claimed to be a wizard, and had a sword strapped to his side.

 

* * *

 

Raven was determined not to let how heavy the wagon was getting show. She might be part dwarrow, but it was also a two-hour walk back over a rough road. Stubbornly though she didn’t let her pace falter and kept her posture upright. At least, she promised herself, they’d have some fresh bread now. It would not last for very long, it never did, but their last flour had run out weeks ago and she was excited for real bread again. Bilba’s baking was delicious and Raven personally hoped that maybe there would still be enough in a fortnight for a pie to celebrate her’s and Bilba’s birthdays. Raven would go on a hunt before their birthday too. Animals knew better than to wander too close to the smial and the empty traplines suggested that they had moved even farther afield, but Raven wouldn’t let that stop her from bringing fresh meat home for their special supper.

Aside from the occasional bread and meat they regularly ate produce and the few chickens they had gave them enough eggs for breakfast. The goat, that it had taken them years to save up for, gave them a little milk as well. It might be poor fare, especially for two adult hobbits and growing dwobbit, but having a bit of all of it on one day was a feast to Raven. Thinking about food, her belly rumbled loudly as she realized that she hadn’t eaten all day.

Raven hadn’t minded the long walk coming into town. She liked to walk and she’d desperately needed the time alone to clear her mind earlier, but with the wizard at her side changed that. Her privacy was gone and his fast pace forced Raven to almost run just to keep up. Altogether, it made the long commute feel at least three times longer. Finally, however, the back of the hill appeared and Raven slowed.

“You’d better not upset her.” Raven warned the wizard again. He’d tried to make small talk with her along the way, but she’d stubbornly ignored him. He had muttered something about dwarvish stubbornness and cursed Durin’s line, further supporting her suspicions but she’d said nothing. 

“Raven is that you? You have no idea how worried I was to wake up and find you gone!” Bilba clearly heard the wagon’s wheels bumping along the dirt path because she emerged from the smial only to freeze at the sight of the man at her daughter’s side.

Raven quickly went to her mother, letting the hobbit embrace her even while the blood drained from Bilba’s face. Inwardly, Raven cursed herself for bringing the wizard with her back to their home as Bilba’s grip on her tightened. Gandalf might never have found them without her showing him the way, Rangers be damned, and whatever he might say, Raven was beginning to suspect that even his presence would only bring trouble. There was no undoing it now though; whatever the future held, Raven, Bilba, and Aunt Primula would face it together.

“Gandalf?” Bilba gasped in surprise, her eyes widening as she took a hesitant step towards the wizard.


	3. two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gandalf has some news for Bilba.

 

  **AN:** Thank you to all of you lovely readers (and for all of the kudos and especially the comments)! It makes finals season that much more cheery! Anyways, here is another chapter and more to follow hopefully soon! I’ll be doing a bit of traveling but I’ll try to post anyways! :) Hope you enjoy and I’d love it if you left me a comment or let me know if you have any questions etc. :)

Also, a few quick clarifying details: so when Bilba returned after the quest she was shunned, so no one would talk or acknowledge her so that’s why she left Bag End (fled really) and has raised Raven in Buckland (in an old previously-abandoned smial). Primula moved in with them during their first winter in the smial (Winter 2942-43) and has been crucial because she isn’t shunned and can still buy things from the village (sorry chapter 1 and preface had a lot of little details thrown in so it might have been a bit confusing!) As for Drogo etc. I’m not sure when that’s happening, but baby Frodo will appear (maybe as the son of Drogo, maybe not, time will tell! ;)

 _For future timeline/reference also:_ Bilba is younger in this version, sixty seemed a little old for the story I have in mind, so she’s born 22 September 2907 so Bilba will be turning 51 (though since she was 33 when the Company left the Shire in April of 2941, she still looks much younger). Raven will be turning16, but still looks only about ten or elven. She’s very mature for her age because of the way that she’s grown up; Bilba hasn’t really been able to shelter her.

* * *

_two_

Bilba

* * *

 

_**Buckland, by the Old Forest** _

_**early September 2958** _

 

Bilba paced nervously around the smial. She hated feeling so helpless, but there was nothing else that she could do. Once upon a time she’d have had the bounders at her back or, better, a Company of dwarrow ready to jump to do her bidding. Those days were gone. When she’d woken up that morning she’d found Raven gone and the bed beside her cold. It wasn’t hard for Bilba to guess where Raven had gone; her dagger and her sling were missing and she’d been anxious the past few days to check her trap-line. Then noon had come and gone and Raven had still not appeared. Bilba knew it didn’t take Raven that long to check the trap line. In a panic, Bilba had raced back to the smial, trying to figure out where else her daughter might have gone and to decide where she should go to search first. She’d found their cart missing. It had been there that morning when Bilba retrieved their basket and headed to harvest tomatoes so Raven had apparently returned and snuck out again. That, combined with the absence of their coin purse, could mean only one thing: Raven was going into town.

As ridiculous as it was, the notion of Raven alone in town frightened Bilba more than her daughter wandering the countryside alone. Raven could use her dagger and she knew how to hide in the forest, but the dangers that the other hobbits posed were entirely different. At sixteen, if Raven had only been a hobbit lass, then she would have been well on her way to adulthood, however, with her half-dwarrow heritage she barely looked eleven years old. Still, Primula had warned Bilba that hobbits were still beginning to look at her in less than innocent ways. In their eyes after all, Raven was still sixteen, no matter how youthful she might appear.

Bilba herself had fended off their advances before, but she worried about Raven. One day, sooner rather than later, Bilba knew that she’d have to explain the darker side of the world and specifically their social position to her daughter. Without anything else to distract her, Bilba found herself praying that she’d not regret keeping Raven in the dark even this long.

Usually, Raven had Primula’s protection and Bilba knew that her feisty Brandybuck cousin would never let anything happen to her daughter. Luckily, hobbits would still face legal action if they attacked Primula and, though Bilba’s cousin could be propositioned, the chances of attack were low. When Raven went on her own, however, there was no such protection. Luckily, however, Bilba also knew that Raven’s youthful appearances were no reason to underestimate her. Raven was smart and capable, and any hobbit who tried to underestimate her would learn that quickly.

When Bilba had returned to the Shire she had dreamed about being able to protect her daughter from the harsh realities of the world. She had envisioned Raven growing up in Bag End, as Bilba had, with seven full meals a day and a peacefully sheltered existence. Instead, Raven had been forced to grow up far too quickly. Without Primula’s arrival, midway through Bilba’s first winter at the smial, they might not even have made it this long. Primula was their lifesaver, she had given up a comfortable life in Brandy Hall and chances of making a good marriage and Bilba would never be able to repay her. In spite of Primula’s help, Raven had still been forced into a state of independent maturity far sooner than Bilba preferred. Indeed, the mother in Bilba still protested whenever Raven followed the game trail or ventured into town on her own. Raven knew it upset her to have to give permission so she had stopped asking; she simply did what needed to be done. Bilba respected Raven for her determination, but it didn’t make her feel any better nor did it allow her to put a stop to it. As long as Raven was able to contribute to the farm then Bilba and Primula had to take advantage of her maturity, not to mention her strength. Although Raven was still young, her dwarven heritage showed in her strength and, with the proper diet and training, Bilba was sure that she’d also make a formidable warrior, _much like_ — Bilba forced herself to stop that thought. At least for the time being Raven wasn’t a warrior yet, she was only a child.

Outside the sun was setting, and the curl of worry formed into a solid pit in Bilba’s belly. With a flash of determination, she marched into the back room, pulling open the bottom drawer of the wardrobe and withdrawing the little sword. It had been several years since she’d really wielded Sting, and it might not be the right idea to charge into the town with a sword in hand but, especially if Raven was in danger, then consequences be damned because Bilba was not going to leave her daughter at the mercy of the hobbits. They might be driven out later on, but then Bilba would figure that out if she had to. For now, Bilba knew better than anyone else just how horrible hobbits could be and she wouldn’t be a fit mother if she did nothing. 

With Sting strapped to her hip, Bilba slammed her door open, intending to march into town only to freeze as she heard the rattling of cart wheels. Bilba felt a rush of relief, her knees going weak for a moment before all of her worry changed into anger.

“Raven is that you? You have no idea how worried I was to wake up and find you gone!” she exclaimed as her daughter rounded the hill, fully intending to give her daughter a thorough talking to. Then, Bilba felt abruptly as if the air had been knocked from her as a towering figure in a familiar grey robe and pointed hat also appeared at her daughter’s side.

“Gandalf?” Bilba gaped in surprise, taking a shaky step towards him, before coming to a stop. She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she turned Raven who dropped the cart handle and hurried to Bilba’s side. Numbly, Bilba hugged Raven tightly to her, the day’s worry easing as she held her child, safe and whole, to her bosom.

“Hello, Bilba.” Gandalf smiled, as Bilba looked warily up at him over her daughter’s shoulder. “I fear it’s been far too long.” If she didn’t know better, Bilba might go as far as to say that Gandalf’s tone was apologetic.

 

* * *

 

For years, when Raven was younger, Bilba had thought about leaving the Shire. When she and Gandalf had passed through Rivendell on their way back, the Lord Elrond had offered her an invitation to stay, but she had declined. After she’d been shunned she’d thought multiple times about returning to Rivendell to raise her child there but she’d never been able to follow through with it. Bilba Belladonna was a hobbit of the Shire, she’d been born here and she couldn’t bear to become a real exile. At least, not after she’d already been exiled from the only other place that she’d considered home. Erebor might never have actually been home, but Bilba had intended it to be and she’d lost that. She could not bring herself to lose the Shire too.

Difficult as life had been for them, they had a roof over their heads, food on the table and she did not have to resort to begging; at least not yet. Bilba had set up the garden and, it was true, life was not luxurious but they harvested enough vegetables and fruits to pickle and can for the winter. In the summer they also had short-lasting greens and, in the fall, they gathered sweet apples and dried herbs for cooking and medicinal purposes.

The food was far less than Bilba had dined on while she lived in Bag End, but it sufficed. Bilba and Primula survived, Raven had grown and they had even been happy. Certainly there were many times that they had been miserable, mostly in the winters when their supplies ran low and the weather trapped them inside for days, but it was their’s. Never before had Bilba felt so independent. She knew now though that she could survive off of her land, that she could provide for her family.

In the years that had passed since Gandalf had left Bilba at the edge of the Shire she’d hoped many a time that he would return. She had dreamed that he’d help her, but year after year had passed with no such luck so she had given up. Looking over Raven’s shoulder, at the wizard Bilba felt a lump fill her throat.

 

* * *

 

 

“I see that you’ve met my daughter, Raven, but what brings you this way?” Bilba steeled herself and lifted her chin as she released Raven in order to step in front of her daughter; protecting her.

“Well, I was looking to visit you, but when I tried to call on you at Bag End I was told that you’d left.” Gandalf replied, looking rather pointedly at Bilba.

“Sixteen years ago.” Bilba glowered at Gandalf, her voice steely. “I left Hobbiton and Bag End sixteen years ago.”

“What happened? Surely, you could enlighten an old friend?” Gandalf cajoled.

“Raven, why don’t you go inside and prepare some tea for our guest?” Bilba suggested softly, but firmly, and even though Raven scowled she did as she was told. As she turned, however, the light caught the silver clasp in Raven’s dark locks, and Bilba caught the way that Gandalf’s eyes widened in recognition. Bilba lifted her chin as the old wizard looked back at her with a familiar fondness.

“You want to know what happened?” she demanded, after the smial door had closed behind Raven. “What happened is that you let my imaginings get the better of me. I dropped everything, went on your quest and ,when I came back, I didn’t have a home or a place in society. I was pregnant and outlandish, the hobbits were already most of the way through auctioning off Bag End and its contents. They didn’t give me my things back, they mocked me, and I had no money to buy back my things or my place in society. I was tired from running after the Battle, and pregnant. I used Sting to force my way into Bag End and the Thain refused me access to my funds after that. I was shunned socially, unable to buy food, without any supplies or even furniture. I fled here, staving and pregnant in the night like a thief. I took what remained of my possessions and I bore Raven alone in this smial. I almost died for it, but I had no one and no other options because I was too far pregnant to return to Rivendell. After Raven was born she was so little, I couldn’t travel with her. Then the winter came, and we stayed. I stole food, I am a professional burglar after all, and we survived, if barely, until Primula arrived.

“We were friends before I left on my adventure, and Primula didn’t care that I was shunned. She came to check on me and, without her, I think we would have died. She brought food, supplies, and company. She helped me to care for Raven and to keep the smial warm enough for us not to freeze to death. She could go into town and buy us what we lacked. We still almost starved, but we survived and miraculously so did Raven. When the spring came, Primula decided to stay with us, to give up her life and make a new one with us. Crazy thing to do, but I’ve been so glad for her. She’s more a Took than Brandybuck I think, and enjoys living with a little bit of excitement and more purpose than tea and gossiping.

“We planted seeds, we began to tend to the earth because we didn’t know what else to do. We were too weak to leave, and after that winter we had grown even closer. The farm’s expanded since then. We grow our own food, hunt on occasion and the Rangers bring us other supplies. We give them some food and mostly medicinal herbs from our garden in exchange. I’m sure it’s not a fair trade, but they insist and because of that they’ve keep us alive and supplied.” As Gandalf continued to regard her, the anger that had first consumed Bilba vanished, a wave of self-pity that she’d been denying for years overtaking her.

“Raven’s sixteen, or she will be in a fortnight, and I think she’s aging well. I don’t know for sure because I never really knew much about dwarrowdams or children, but according to what I know of when dwarrow come of age, she’s matured far faster than a dwarrowdam. We’ve needed her to be mature too, to help on the farm and sometimes to hunt or go into town.” Gandalf frowned, and Bilba bristled again. “I’m not neglecting my child, Gandalf. I will kill to protect her, don’t get me wrong, but I can see that you disapprove of finding her alone and that’s my defence. I’ve had few friends and we don’t have excess of anything so some luxuries, not even childhood. Raven’s missed out on it because of me.” Bilba held Gandalf’s gaze as she defended herself and her actions. She’d read the disapproval in his gaze when he’d arrived, but she truly didn’t know what else to do. Gandalf was, after all, the only one who’d known that she was pregnant. Well, that wasn’t strictly true, but Beorn lived far from her and Elrond was an elf lord, not a traveller capable of stopping in.

“Lord Elrond always would have taken you in, even if you had to wait for Raven to be old enough.” Gandalf said softly.

“I know, but I couldn’t, not after we started the farm. We can provide for ourselves, Gandalf, we survive here and it’s peaceful for the most part. Raven’s a special girl, and I would not force the world on my child until she’s ready to face it.” Bilba said softly.

“You fear that Erebor would hear of her if you lived in Imladris.” Gandalf concluded.

“Yes.” Bilba finally admitted. “I won’t keep Raven from Erebor or her father, but she’s still a child. When she comes of age I will tell her and she can decide after that what she does but, so long as I can, I will keep her from that world. There are enemies she’d have to know how to fight and the chance of gold sickness. Perhaps here we go a little hungry, but her life hasn’t truly been in danger, not since the farm’s been established. I cannot send my daughter, my baby girl, into that world alone, certainly not as a child, not if I can help it.” Bilba replied, an edge of steel in her voice.

“You would not go with her?” Gandalf asked and Bilba frowned.

“Go with her?” A humourless laugh issued from her lips as she dropped Gandalf’s gaze, letting her own eyes wander the land. “I’m trying to protect my daughter, not to scar her, and seeing my head adoring the gates of Erebor courtesy of her father? That would not be protecting her. We’ve made a home for ourselves here, it’s not much, but it’s home. It has what we need and she knows what it is to grow up loved and trusted. We look after each other and, when she is older, and wants to travel, well, I’ll spend the rest of my days here, working my land.” Bilba raised her gaze back to meet Gandalf’s; daring him to challenge her future.

“You don’t know then.” she thought she heard Gandalf murmur, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Gandalf-“ she began, her voice trailing off as a pit formed in her stomach.

“Thorin took back your banishment.” she heard the words, but they sounded far away and it took her a long time to process them.

“What? When?” she whispered.

“On Durin’s Day, the first year anniversary.” Gandalf replied softly. “You were granted a royal pardon and many honours were bestowed on you. It as quite the feast and celebration. Nor all the dwarrow were happy, but the Company, Thorin, he insisted.”

“Why? Why would they do it? Why care?” Bilba heard herself ask faintly.

“Well, they felt incredibly guilty for what happened both at the gate and afterwards.” Gandalf dodged and her eyes narrowed, sensing his avoidance.

“But why give me honours? Why make it a celebration? I was just a hobbit burglar to them, a traitor.” Bilba met his gaze, this time demanding silently that he tell her the truth.

“They searched after the battle for you. They wanted to ask your forgiveness, but we were already on the road. They could only find your coat. It was torn and bloodied and, when you failed to appear, there were so many dead after the battle. Pyres were used to burn the bodies lest they fester and surely you can understand then, assumptions were made-” Gandalf trailed off and Bilba felt as though the air had been forced out of her lungs.

“They think I’m dead?” she managed to gasp out.

“The honours were given posthumously.” Gandalf nodded and Bilba felt her world blurring as tears filled her gaze. She stumbled back, partially sitting but mostly falling onto the cart with its sack of flour.

 

* * *

 

 _Dead._ _Her dwarrow thought she was dead_. Bilba’s mind turned helplessly in circles. Like with Gandalf, at times she had wondered where they were, what they were doing and, secretly, had dreamed that they might come looking for her. Bilba had not imagined that they thought her dead. The more that she thought about it, however, the more she realized how they could have come to that conclusion. Her body shook slightly. Bilba had missed them, had missed them so much it hurt but at the same time she’d always been afraid that they would find her. She thought that for sure if they did then they would take Raven from her, and Bilba could not survive losing her daughter.

Bilba was used to not feeling accepted. She had always been an oddity in the Shire, dancing along the fragile barrier between acceptable and unacceptable behaviours. Then the Company had come though and she could simply be herself. Well, eventually she’d been herself. The first months of the quest she’d been in hiding; pretending to be Bilbo Baggins, not Bilba. Then the truth had come out to everyone at Beorn’s house and it had been so freeing.

Certainly, Dwalin had known from the beginning because he had shown up by surprise her on her doorstep. Of course Gandalf claimed that he was going to be there earlier to explain everything, and blamed Dwalin who had come early to ensure that the Company would be safe in the Shire and with their burglar. Bilba privately thought that both Gandalf’s lateness and Dwalin’s eagerness had caused the issue. Dwalin had been furious, feeling that it was not right to endanger a woman but, even then, her temper had gotten the better of her. When she’d determinedly gone about becoming Bilbo, even cutting her long hair to Dwalin’s horror, he had reluctantly accepted that she was not to be stopped so easily. During the evening he’d tried to have a private word with Gandalf, but when the wizard simply insisted that Bilba could come along, well, Dwalin wasn’t sure what to do. He had still believed that Bilba would be shamed by staying with her cut hair and since she’d made such a sacrifice already for the company she supposed that he respected her loyalty. Dwalin had glowered at first, but eventually resolved to guard her as best he could and, perhaps more importantly, to teach her to fight. It was an odd friendship at first, but Bilba had come to love Dwalin as a brother. By the time that the Company arrived in Rivendell Nori, Bifur, and Oín all knew her secret too. Nori and Bifur because they were the most observant and Oín because he was the Company’s healer and Thorin had insisted that Bilba be examined after the troll incident.

In the Mountains, her attraction to Thorin had grown. Bilba had longingly hoped that Thorin realized she was a female only to be disappointed. Then came their dratted trip to Goblin Town and well, after that it was right on to Beorn’s house where the truth had come out. Poor Bofur and Ori had nearly fainted at Beorn’s announcement. Fíli, Kíli, and Glóin had been in denial. Dori, Balin, and Bombur had nodded as though their suspicions were confirmed and Thorin. Oh how scared Bilba had been of his reaction. He had looked at her with such great alarm that it was almost comical and then muttered something about Dís skinning him alive before he stormed out of the house. Bilba had resolutely followed him, expecting to have to fight with him not to send her home. He had tried, but she was not to be left behind or returned. The argument that had followed, well, it had abruptly ended when he had kissed her very, very, thoroughly.

Bilba wished she could go back to those days. She remembered how worried they’d all been about her wellbeing. The Company had been horrified that a woman would be sent on their suicide mission, much less to face a dragon, because females were sacred in their race. In fact, with so few dwarrowdams, the Company had gotten angry when she had said that is wasn’t a big deal and that she was expendable. Then of course she’d gone and begun courting Thorin on the road and their protectiveness, which had already gone through the roof, tripled at least. They’d treated her like a queen, and she supposed for a short while she was going to be their queen. That was why she’d lain with Thorin. Well, because they were to be married anyways and she’d been so scared to even hope that they might survive the dragon. Then it had all fallen apart because of the gold. The cursed gold. She hated it all. It had taken her family and her love and now, well, she didn’t even know what to think.

Her dwarrow had been lost to her after she betrayed their trust and took the damned Arkenstone to the elves and Bard. She respected that they could not trust her, after all, the Arkenstone was an heirloom of their people and a symbol of Thorin’s right to be King. It was unforgivable to have stolen it.

Now though, she was beginning to question all of it. _Had she been wrong to stay hidden? Could she and Raven have lived a spoiled life as royalty in Erebor with Thorin and the Company there as their family?_ Years of worry, however, kept Bilba from accepting it all so quickly. _Had her dwarrow only forgiven her because she was dead? Because she could not come back? Was it a lie to lure her back? To trap and punish her?_

A flash of rage returned to Bilba as she returned her gaze to Gandalf. All of her struggles had perhaps been for naught. If she was truly forgiven then Raven might never have known what it was like to go hungry and be cold. As a proper hobbit mother, Bilba dreamed of feeding her daughter seven meals a day. In a perfect world she would have baked day in and day out to provide her baby girl with everything and anything that she could ever want. Instead, they had been rationed to three small meals a day; just enough to survive on without any access fat from having to farm and hunt day in and day out.

At times, even when she thought that seeing her dwarrow again would mean her instant death, Bilba had secretly longed for them to come. She had even contemplated taking Raven to Erebor after particularly bad winters. Raven might be half-hobbit, but the blood of Durin still flowed in her veins and she was female so surely, Thorin couldn’t turn her away. At least, that was what Bilba hoped and, even if she would die for returning to Erebor, wouldn’t any mother sacrifice herself for her daughter?

It would have been more reasonable to go to the elves, but Bilba didn’t want to be a guest in their halls. No matter how much she might have liked Imladris, or how intriguing elven society was, it would never truly be home and that was what she wanted: a home for herself and Raven, a place for them to have a family. The dwarrow and elves had hated each other for years and though many did not take unkindly to Raven, there was no ignoring her half-dwarrow lineage and neither did Bilba want Raven to feel unwelcome because of her lineage. Moreover, Bilba worried that, if she gave up the farm, she’d be dependent on others for the rest of her life and she couldn’t do that. That wasn’t even to mention how vulnerable their dependency would make Raven, no matter what others might demand. With the notorious hostilities between the races, Raven would be a valuable pawn, but a pawn nonetheless in the great game of politics because, whether Thorin accepted her or not, she was a daughter of Durin.

Thorin. Ultimately, his reaction had always ended up stopping Bilba. She had seen him as the determined leader and protector of his people and then he’d transformed into a passionate lover and loyal husband-to-be but, overnight, he’d also become crazed with gold sickness. If he was still crazed then Bilba could not subject Raven to that future. Even if his mind had cleared, _would seeing Bilba or having Raven there bring it all back? And, what of Raven herself? Could she fall prey to gold sickness?_ Raven was happy enough at the smial and gloriously oblivious of gold sickness. Bilba shivered at the thought of her daughter becoming a captive of the disease as Thorin had been. It was her worst fear to see Raven come to any harm because of gold sickness and, at least in the Shire, Bilba always knew that she was doing everything she could for her daughter. Moreover, Raven always knew what it meant to be loved. Primula and Bilba made sure of that. They could not shower the girl with presents, but they could shower her with love.

 _Pardoned_. The notion flitted across Bilba’s mind again. If she’d known that years ago then, fears or not, she would have made her way to the mountain, she was sure of it. The cold and threat of starvation combined with Raven’s youth and needs would have driven her there: to their family. Even if it was some kind of trap, she had been desperate at times when Raven was still young because Bilba had feared that her daughter would starve or freeze to death. Before, Bilba realized with utter certainty, no matter what she told herself, only the fear that Thorin would take Raven, that he might hurt her and that Bilba would not be able to see her ever again had kept her from going to Rivendell.

Now, Gandalf had reappeared and brought with him a whole future of possibilities that Bilba had long since given up on. All of her emotions came tumbling out; her fear and longing, her love and hurt, her hunger and exhaustion. It was a tide that she could not stop.

 

* * *

 

“Ma?” Raven came over to her side, her blue eyes wide, as she drew Bilba out of her thoughts. _So much like Thorin_ , Bilba thought before she could stop herself. She still loved the stubborn dwarf king. She had nearly died up on Raven Hill saving his royal highness and that was when she still thought he’d kill her. She knew it was not right then to love him, and even now she knew she should not forgive him, but her resentment seemed to dissipate as she looked into her daughter’s eyes. Thorin had not abandoned her, intentionally or not, because he didn’t care, but rather because he thought her dead. All of her friends thought her dead.

“Ma?” Raven asked again her eyes widening before she turned to glare at Gandalf. “What have you done? I told you that I wouldn’t let you hurt her!” Raven shouted at the wizard.

“Raven.” Bilba forced her emotions back, bottling them up once again for the sake of her daughter. “It’s alright, Raven, he hasn’t hurt me, just gave me some surprising news, that’s all.” Bilba tried to smile, but Raven kept frowning and glaring at the wizard.

“Is the tea ready? Come, help me to bring the table and bench out, we should enjoy the nice weather.” Bilba forced her legs to support her and went into the smial.

It was dark, but the cooking fire warmed and lit the space. The smial was only two rooms, the front with the kitchen on the left and the living space on the right and then the bedroom in the back. It had been plastered, but it still looked very rough and Bilba had never been able to afford to paint it; that was simply a luxury that they’d had to do without.

The living room held two worn armchairs and a sofa as well as bookshelves. They were hand-made shelves filled with all of the tomes that Bilba had rescued from Bag End, top shelves protecting her treasured books from the sometimes damp ceiling. It was not a fancy hobbit hole, so occasionally it did get a little damp. The kitchen was open, but then again there were almost no walls in the smial. Primula and Bilba had made the kitchen table and trestle benches themselves and it separated the living space from the kitchen. Then they had two fireplaces along the single dividing wall. Both were open so that they could be accessed from the front rooms or the bedroom. Through the one doorway was the bedroom. They had a little storage space to the right, but it was damp and not good for much other than the pickled food. There were two beds and they had crammed an armoire and two dressers into the space as well, but it was cramped and far from fancy.

Still, simple and small as the smial was, it was their home. Bilba had only really felt trapped in the smial when it was raining or the weather was otherwise so bad that they could not venture outside. In the winter for the most part it was cozy; a warm safe haven from elements. In the spring, summer and autumn, the door and windows were left open to the yard outside, expanding the space and filling it with fresh air.

Before the quest, Bilba would never have let herself be caught in such cramped quarters; especially not when she had a daughter and a cousin living with her. Then again, before she’d run out of her door, Bilba had been a very different hobbit. The Bilba who she was now was content with the little smial, or at least she had been this morning before Gandalf had arrived to fill her head with more wild imaginings.

“Bloody wizards!” Bilba cursed, her mind spinning in many directions that she did not want it to go in.

“Ma?” Raven asked softly.

“Yes, Raven?” Bilba asked.

“I don’t think I understand everything that’s happening, that Gandalf said. What does it all mean?” Bilba sighed, but better they do this now rather than later. Gandalf wasn’t going anywhere, and it was true; she owed Raven an explanation.

* * *

 **AN:** Minor edits made June 26 :) 


	4. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven finally hears Bilba speak about her past.

**AN:** Well here’s the next chapter! Sorry it was supposed to be out a little earlier, but I messed up and re-edited chapter 2 instead of 3 … totally my bad! In any case, chapter 2 now has a few minor grammar edits and here’s chapter 3! Hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for all the support and please, please keep it coming :) I love to know that you guys are still interested and I’m always happy to have feedback ;)

 

* * *

_three_

Raven

* * *

 

_**Buckland, by the Old Forest** _

_**early September 2958** _

 

“I don’t think I understand everything that’s happening, that Gandalf said. What does it all mean?” Raven demanded as Bilba sighed and sat down on one of the benches. When Bilba patted the seat beside her, Raven silently went to her side “Ma, what did he mean you’re pardoned? That it was posthumously? What’s going to happen to us now?” Raven blurted; the dam that she had used to keep the questions back over the years finally bursting.

“I don’t know yet,” Bilba looked at Raven, meeting her gaze unflinchingly. “When I was with the Company, before the battle, I had a chance to try to stop it, to save lives, and I took it. The cost, however, was betraying the trust of the Company, of Thorin in particular, and that’s why he exiled me. I took something very precious to him, Raven, a jewel that is called the Arkenstone. It was a family heirloom, you see and I gave it to Thorin’s enemy to force him to barter. We never saw each other again after the battle. I stayed long enough to make sure he survived, but he never knew that I was there. I suppose that I assumed he’d think I’d returned to the Shire. I never imagined he’d think I’d died. Still, perhaps that’s why he could forgive me at all. If I was alive, if he knew, then I’m not sure.” Bilba stroked Raven’s hair and she nodded, taking in all of the information that Bilba gave her.

“And Thorin, he’s my Da isn’t he?” Raven whispered.

“Yes.” Bilba nodded. “We were very much in love. Well, at first, I believe he could hardly stand me, but I managed to befriend other members of the Company, including his sister-sons. I proved to him that I was resourceful and brave and eventually he came to hate me less. I was dressed as a boy though, and that also confused our relationship. When he finally discovered that I was female, well, we began to court and, Raven, we intended to be married. I was going to be his Queen Under the Mountain. We spoke of starting a family, but when we finally reclaimed the Mountain, he got sick. That’s why he was so unreasonable and why I had to betray him as I did. He had what was called gold sickness. It made him unable to see reason. The dwarf I loved, he wasn’t the same and that’s also why he exiled me. If he was in his right mind, I truly don’t believe he would have done any of it. The Thorin I loved, he put his people first. Always. He loved his kin as well, his sister-sons. You could see how much he loved them, and he would have loved you the same. He always protected me and when we talked about a future he confided to me that he dreamed of having children of his own; of having a daughter.” Raven searched Bilba’s gaze nervously, looking for confirmation that Bilba was telling her the truth.

“He wanted me?” she whispered, reading the sincerity in Bilba’s gaze and feeling her gaze fill with tears. She’d always been afraid that the reason Bilba had left, the reason that she was unhappy and estranged, was because of Raven.

“Yes, Raven, he always wanted you.” Bilba gently wiped away Raven’s tears.

“Then why did he send you away? If he was as protective as you said,” Raven trailed off. “Was it the sickness?” she whispered.

“It was the gold sickness, but Thorin, he also didn’t know that I was pregnant.” Raven jerked in surprise. “You see, even I didn’t know that I was pregnant the last time that I saw Thorin. It was only after the Battle, an elven healer told me that I was with child and I departed, determined to raise you here, in the Shire, where you’d be safe and happy. I wanted you to be raised in Bag End, Raven, with seven meals a day and everything that you could want for at your fingertips. I thought it would be peaceful and safe, but I’m afraid instead I’ve only ever failed you.” Bilba said sadly. “After the gold sickness and the battle, I was always too afraid to make inquiries after Thorin’s well-being. Perhaps, if I had, then you would have been raised differently, in a happier home, not wanting for anything the way that you have.”

“No, Ma, you’ve never failed me.” Raven interrupted, reaching forward to hug Bilba before hesitating. Earlier she had been sure that it would be better not to tell Bilba about the dwarrow that she’d seen. Now, however, after realizing how much Bilba had loved Thorin and how Thorin had loved Bilba in return, well, she didn’t know. “Though there is something, that I have to tell you.” Raven bit her lip nervously before continuing. “Earlier, when I was checking the trap lines, I didn’t find anything so I was hurrying back to be able to head into town and I was by the road. I saw Dís, Fíli, and Dwalin on the road, Ma, and I’m afraid that they might have seen me. I mean, they might not have known that you were alive, but they might also be curious.” Raven rambled until Bilba set a warm hand on her cheek.

“Raven, hush.” Bilba insisted gently, though she seemed pale. “What do you want, Raven?” Raven blinked blankly at Bilba.

“What do you mean, Ma?” she asked uncertainly.

“Do you want to leave the Shire? Do you want to seek them out? To meet you father?” Bilba asked, and though her voice was even, Raven read the fear in her gaze.

“I want to stay with you!” Raven blurted and saw the even more terrifying sheen of tears in Bilba’s eyes. Raven was never really good at tears, and she froze, but Bilba smiled at her, drawing her in close.

“Of course I’ll stay with you anyways, Raven.” Bilba nodded.

“So then, what do you want?” Raven drew back, and Bilba’s smile widened and then softened.

“I want you to be happy.” Bilba replied.

“And I want you to be happy.” Raven insisted, hugging Bilba. “I think, perhaps, we have to speak to Gandalf.” Bilba sighed and nodded.

“We will, but Raven, I want you to know, I-“ Bilba began.

“I love you, Ma, and whatever happens, we’ll face it together.” Raven interrupted her and Bilba’s mouth slowly closed and then she nodded.

“I love you too, Raven, more than anything in this world.” Bilba nodded.

“Shall we go talk to an uppity wizard then?” Raven suggested.

“Raven!” Bilba scolded, but her eyes were sparkling as the two carried the table and benches outside.

 

 

* * *

 

Raven sat on the bench, listening to Bilba and Gandalf converse. When Bilba and Raven had laid the table for tea, Gandalf had said nothing about their disappearance. Instead, he sat across from them, contentedly puffing on his pipe as they set out a megar spread. Bilba had begun by quietly asking for tidings, and Gandalf had given them plenty. He had told Bilba about how Bombur and Glóin’s wives and children had joined them in Erebor. Bombur had two sons, one who had come with his wife and one, younger than Raven, who had been born since the move to Erebor. Gimli, Glóin’s son, although still only an apprentice was well on his way to becoming a formidable warrior. Raven listened to the stories of the dwarrow families and wondered what it would be like to have been raised in Erebor. She did not begrudge Bilba for raising her here in the Shire, but neither could Raven quite contain her curiosity, especially now that it seemed that everything dwarrow was not quite so off-limits.

Finally, though, when even Raven was actually beginning to tire of the tiding, Bilba spoke up. “What of Thorin? The gold sickness?” Raven straightened in her seat, but kept silent in curiosity.

“It is gone. He broke through the haze before the Battle, it was what enabled him to lead the Company out of the Mountain, and it has never returned.” Gandalf replied and Raven felt a wave of relief. The sickness that had stolen Thorin from both her and Bilba was gone. She glanced anxiously to Bilba, but could divine nothing from the hobbit’s countenance.

“And the Arkenstone?” Bilba asked almost timidly.

“He buried it.” Raven thought that Gandalf was slower to answer, almost more cautious.

“Buried? But it was a sign of his right to the throne, a blessing to his rule, so why would he relinquish it?” Bilba leaned forward, also obviously curious.

“Well, you see, he laid it to rest as part of the Queen’s Memorial.” Gandalf finally admitted, taking his pipe out of his mouth and fixing Bilba was a careful gaze.

“Queen?” Bilba asked softly, her face reflecting a mixture of surprise and confusion, and Raven’s stomach performed an odd flip flopping jolt.

“You mean he made Ma a Queen?” she blurted, and Gandalf’s gaze shifted to her before Raven turned to Bilba. “I thought you only intended to marry?” Bilba wrapped an arm around Raven’s shoulders as she looked back to Gandalf.

“Are you aware of the dwarvish courting and marriage rituals?” Gandalf asked softly.

“It is made up of a series of courting gifts. When the first is accepted then you’re considered to be courting. The second gift is meant to prove the suitor’s worth and the third is proof of their ability to provide for the intended throughout their future. The marriage is an exchange of beads, both suitor and intended give each other a bead, braiding it into the other’s hair. He gave me the courting gifts, but I never gave him a bead.” Bilba said faintly, a small furrow creasing her brow.

“But he braided that bead into your hair, did he not?” Gandalf gestured towards Raven, and she reached up, feeling the silver clasp that Bilba had insisted she wear in her hair.

“Well, yes.” Bilba replied, frowning slightly.

“And when he did that, did you re-braid Thorin’s hair?” Gandalf probed.

“Well, yes,” Bilba admitted, growing pink in the face.

“I believe that, since hobbits do not make beads and it is not a part of hobbit courtship or marriage, Thorin considered your re-braiding of his hair a token of your marriage and therefore of your eligibility to be called queen.” Bilba stared blankly at Gandalf. Her grip on Raven’s shoulders loosened, the only warning that the dwobbit got, before Bilba tipped over in a dead faint.

“Ma!” Raven exclaimed, scrambling to catch Bilba. She failed, due to the bench’s hinderance, but was glad both that the benches were low to the ground and that Bilba had collapsed onto soft grass. Raven scrambled to lay Bilba flat, and glared at the wizard.

“What did you mean by that? You weren’t supposed to upset her!” Raven snapped at Gandalf.

“I thought she could handle it. She’s been through a lot.” Gandalf replied, though as he returned his pipe to his mouth, Raven was sure that he looked a little sheepish.

“Well, clearly, you’ve failed to accurately assess the impact of your actions.” Raven snapped as Bilba groaned and began to come around.

“Ma?” she asked anxiously.

“I’m fine, Raven.” Bilba insisted, sitting up. “It was a bit of a shock is all.” Bilba looked across at Gandalf.

“I can shoot him.” Raven offered and Gandalf raised a bushy eyebrow while Bilba smiled indulgently.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.” she told Raven.

“You should have this, it’s yours, Thorin meant for you to have it.” Raven hesitated, pulling the bead from her hair and letting her dark locks tumble freely about her face.

“No, I want you to keep it, it looks right in your hair.” Bilba closed Raven’s fingers back over the bead.

“But, Thorin gave it to you, what would he say if you just gave it away?” Raven worried.

“If Thorin ever saw you, then I am sure that he would want to see you proclaiming your Durin heritage. You see, hair braids and clasps mean different things in dwarrow society. Wearing this bead declares you to be a member of the line of Durin. And, anyways, this was never going to mine permanently. It’s one of two that he always wore, you see, and he promised me that once we’d retaken the Mountain he would make me my own. It would show that I was his queen, whereas this one and its mate identify him.” Bilba explained gently, spinning Raven and then combing her fingers through her locks to replace the bead.

“What else did Thorin give you?” Raven blurted as Bilba gently re-braided her hair.

“As courting gifts?” Bilba asked.

“Yes.”

“Well, he asked me to court by presenting me with a bouquet of flowers. The message was rather mixed, but I didn’t have the heart to tell him that flowers aren’t just for appearances. Dwarrow don’t know the meaning of flowers, you see, but I understood that he was trying to do something for me that I would understand and appreciate. His next gift, well, they all got rather mixed up because we were on the road and off to fight a dragon. In any case, he gave me the key to the Queen’s Rooms as a promise of our future. They were to be mine, and we would make a royal apartment complete with a library, a kitchen, a nursery for our children, and even a balcony. We were to settle down with our family in Erebor. It was a wonderful dream, and I truly did believe him when he told me about where everything would be. To that extent I suppose that the whole Mountain was his gift to me, but he always told me that he would court me properly after we were settle in Erebor.” Bilba fastened the bead and Raven turned around to look at her. She was smiling gently as she spoke. “Lastly, he gave me a coat of mithril. He said that it was their best armour, the strongest metal, and that I should wear it because it would protect me in the Battle. So, I suppose that if I were to classify his gifts then the mithril coat would have been his eligibility and the rooms would be our future, but I never really cared to question any of it. We loved each other and that was all that mattered. He braided the bead into my hair after he gave me the mithril, so I suppose I did become a queen, at least for a short while, even if I never knew.” Bilba gave a soft laugh. “I swear, I would have loved to see Lobelia’s face if she ever knew that I married a King and you are a legitimate Princess. It’s just too bad that I didn’t know.” Bilba said wistfully.

“I still don’t understand how you didn’t know. Why didn’t any of the others say anything either?” Raven frowned.

“If you ever meet Thorin then you will understand. Dwarrow culture is rich and old. Thorin never really wanted to make things more complicated. He knew what he had to do to make things proper, and he kept it easy for me to simply accept his courtship. I suppose though that ultimately his choice to keep me from learning all of the complexities of dwarrow culture really only made things worse. To think, I never even knew at first what was a compliment and what was an insult! I suppose though, in marrying me, he was a true politician. He no doubt would have seen it as a way to ensure that no nobles coming to Erebor would either dispute our relationship or try to court either one of us. If he could have, I’m sure he would have courted me again anyways, just to make sure that we did it properly, and then he would have been happy to keep me in the dark about our first courtship and marriage.” Bilba reflected.

“I suppose then, if he ever comes, I’ll need to have a talk with him about flowers and courting.” Raven said and Bilba laughed, before turning back to Gandalf.

“So, Thorin married me, and I became queen in spite of my death?” Bilba stood and then sat back down on the bench.

“Yes. He named you as his Queen Under the Mountain. He’s built a most impressive memorial to you as well, and buried the Arkentsone there.” Bilba swallowed as she stood and sat back down on the bench, Raven echoing her move.

“But the dwarrow, they see the Arkenstone as their right to rule, surely they protested?” Bilba said carefully.

“It took Thorin five years to complete the memorial and, in that time, Thorin gained the support and the trust of his people. Moreover, dwarrow only ever marry once in their lives. When he lost you, and since he had Fíli as his heir, it was considered acceptable that he would burry the Arkenstone with you, his Queen. Dwarrow respect that kind of love and loyalty and mourn the loss of a Queen perhaps even more than the loss of a King.” Gandalf explained.

“Well, that’s good then,” Bilba sniffed, blinking back the tears in her gaze, “After all, I did not go traipsing across Middle-Earth or face down a dragon for him to just give it all up!”

“No, you did not, and it has been many years since anyone’s seen as good a king as Thorin Oakenshield.” Gandalf agreed and Bilba sniffed again, softly. Raven felt her stomach twist uncomfortably at the sounds of Bilba’s emotional breakdown. Raven was never really any good at handling emotions, Aunt Primula usually comforted Bilba when she became melancholy.

“Very well then, Gandalf, as you clearly know the tidings, ought I be expecting his majesty to appear on my doorstep?” Bilba wiped dismissively at her teary eyes.

“Well, I daresay that is up to you.” Gandalf replied, his blue eyes twinkling and Bilba sighed, looking over at Raven.

“I see.” Bilba said, but while she did not verbally welcome Thorin’s coming, neither did she protest him knowing. Raven felt a little flutter of excitement in her belly. Perhaps now things would not be so bad if Dís really had seen her before.

“I must say, my dear Bilba, if the Company hear that you are indeed alive you will most certainly have all of them here on your doorstep, King included.” Gandalf said as he stood.

“Are you leaving?” Bilba blurted as the wizard emptied his pipe and tucked it into a pocket in his robe.

“I’m afraid that I only ever intended to stay a few hours when I visited you in Hobbiton. That was already a few days ago and I cannot tarry.” Gandalf said.

“But as you have said many a time before, a wizard is never late and it’s growing dark already!” Bilba protested.

“Aye, that is true, but I have travelled in far darker places. This is still the Shire and I believe that a nice walk in the evening may be rather peaceful. I shall return as soon as I may to check in on you.” Gandalf said, gathering his staff.

“Well, if you insist on departing so soon, may I make a request?” Bilba asked, her voice stern.

“Of course, my dear Bilba.” Gandalf looked fondly down at her.

“Never make assumptions again.” Bilba demanded, glaring up at the wizard. “If you claim that you are my friend, that you will visit then do it. Check in, even if you cannot stay and more frequently than once every sixteen years. You may be a wizard and as old as the high elves, but I am not nor will I or my kin live that long. If anything were to happen to me then, as my friend, I trust that you would protect both Raven and Primula. The Shire hasn’t only been isolation for us, it has granted Raven and I anonymity. Of course any hobbit could tell you of us and even the area that we live in, but beyond the borders of the Shire we are mostly forgotten or, better, unknown. At this smial all I must do is wave Sting about and shout and we are left unmolested. It is not the same in the rest of the world. Dwarrow, men, and elves are all more difficult to chase off and having a wizard on your side is always a good thing. I know you cannot promise safety, but Raven is a daughter of Durin. Once she leaves the safety ofthe Shire and its anonymity then she will inevitably become entangled in the politics of the world. Can I have your word that you will do your best to look after her for me? To ensure that she gets what is best for her, not for Middle Earth or anyone else, but for her?” Bilba met Gandalf’s gaze, refusing to look away as the wizard seemed to consider her and the request in question. Gandalf’s gaze turned to Raven, who raised her chin, staring back at the wizard as she waited for his answer. She was not used to Bilba speaking so candidly of the dangers of the world and her own possible demise, but Raven knew both that Bilba was right and that this moment could be critical for her own future. As much as Raven loved her life at the smial, it seemed increasingly less likely that she would have her entire life there. Where she had previously assumed that she and Bilba would never leave, given Thorin’s forgiveness and Dís’s potential knowledge of her, their time in the Shire even now could be limited. Raven knew little of the outside world, but once she left the Shire, she understood that the rest of the world was a far different place. 

“Of course, I will do my best.” Gandalf finally replied.

“I don’t want your best, Gandalf. I want better. Better than you did for me, better than the last sixteen years, and better because I think that Thorin and I have earned that right for everything that we’ve done for you.” Bilba insisted and Raven winced, expecting the wizard to be upset. After all, one did not simply speak to a wizard the way that Bilba was speaking to Gandalf, but to her surprise he didn’t seem upset.

“Very well. I will do better by them for you Bilba Baggins.” Gandalf agreed and then placed his tall pointed hat on his head.

“Good.” Bilba agreed. “And, I have missed you, my old friend.” she added. Gandalf nodded, smiling as he crouched down to Bilba’s height. She went over to him, wrapping her arms around the wizard, and Raven felt for a moment as though she didn’t know anything about who her mother really was. “We’ll see you soon.” Bilba finally said, stepping back to wrap a protective arm around Raven.

“Soon.” the wizard agreed, and then he turned and headed off, down the slope, past their fields of vegetables, and into the woods. As Raven watched, she couldn’t help but shiver slightly. Something told her that they were not alone at the hole, but Bilba did not seem so concerned. Instead, the two moved the table and benches back inside. As Bilba prepared a small supper for them Raven sat at the desk in the corner, doing her reading. They might be isolated, but Bilba still insisted that Raven learn how to read and write, to recite her history, and calculate sums and to study the elvish language: Sindarin. Bilba herself had been raised with an education and had learned Sindarin while wintering in Imladris so she had been sure that Raven understood the importance of education as well.

 

* * *

 

The next few days passed without event. Raven attended to her studies in the evening and during the day she and Bilba harvested their crops and began to pickle and can in preparation for the winter. In spite of the news that they had received things weren’t going to change, at least not immediately and day after day when nothing happened Raven began to relax back into their way of life. Things even began to return to what Raven might call normal, though privately she could not stop wondering about her dwarrow family and what might happen in the future. Raven would by lying if she claimed that she wasn’t worried about the future and, certainly, she wanted Bilba to be happy, but she was not sure what it would take to ensure that happiness.

One night, a fortnight later, as they lay in their bed, Raven couldn’t fall asleep. Her mind was whirling as she tried to picture a male dwarf who looked like Dís and imagined what it might be like to meet Thorin and the rest of the Company. She had dreamed for years about having a father and now she actually had a face to put to the dream. Or well, she could imagine one at least and, perhaps because she now knew that Bilba had loved Thorin, she didn’t feel guilty for wanting to know him. Still, she had to remind herself that it still might not happen, but in the privacy of her mind she continued to dream.

She was torn from her musings, however, by a lone howl. At her side Bilba jerked awake and as one they pushed the blankets back. It was raining outside, Raven could hear it as they wrapped their thin cloaks about them. Neither she nor Bilba said anything as they lit a lantern and then opened the door. They ran through the rain towards where their goat and chickens were. If there were wolves out hunting then they could not afford to lose their animals. Raven grabbed their goat by its horns, tugging the animal into the smial and leading it straight back to the store room while Bilba stuffed the chickens into a large basket that was kept for just such an occasion. When the animals were secured, Bilba motioned for Raven to stay inside before running out again to get hay for the animals in the storage room. Raven filled a bowl with water, placing it carefully inside the room and before she returned to the main room. She’d already taken her cloak off and was warming herself by the fire when she realized that Bilba had been gone for a lot longer than she should have been. Raven shivered and went to the door, opening it carefully and peering outside. She could see nothing in the dark night: not even Bilba’s lantern. A rush of dread washed over her.

“Ma?” she called, but there was no response. Wrapping herself back up in her wet cloak, she ventured outside, closing the door behind her and heading for the henhouse. It was a little structure, not the best quality of construction, which was why they brought the chickens inside whenever they heard the wolves. As Raven neared the henhouse, however, she caught a glimpse of flames through the slats. She gasped in surprise and ran forward even as the smoke assailed her senses. Glancing through the still-open doorway she could see that the henhouse was burning. Bilba’s lantern had been overturned and its flames were spreading quickly across the straw-covered floor, but there was no sign of Bilba.

“Ma!” Raven screamed, coughing as she inhaled a wave of black smoke. She spun about, her eyes straining in the dark as she tried to locate her absentee mother. “Ma!” Raven called even more desperately, shouting into the dark and coughing even more as her lungs filled with smoke. She sank to her knees by the burning henhouse as panic washed over her. In the dark rain, she wasn’t sure what to do. Bilba was missing, the henhouse was on fire, and she was realized how alone she was, with no one to help.


	5. four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meanwhile in the Blue Mountains.

**AN:** Thanks for all of the support! Sorry about the cliffhanger - not really ;) Anyways, here’s the next chapter :) I hope that you like it, I’ve certainly had fun getting into Dís’s head and exploring dwarrow culture… maybe I got a little carried away, but hopefully you like it! Happy reading and please let me know what you think (and I promise I haven’t forgotten poor Raven and Bilba, their time’s coming!)

* * *

 

_ four _

Dís

* * *

 

_** Blue Mountains ** _

_** mid-September 2958 ** _

 

“Princess, it is an honour to have you with us, we have long looked forward to the joy of your royal presence in the Blue Mountains.” Ímundur, one of the Blue Mountains’ many lords bowed over Dís’s hand. She knew that she should listen better to him, felt that she should especially care about this meeting because he was kin to her aide, lady Ábria, but Dís couldn’t bring herself to do it. Ímundur’s eyes were dark and beady in an unfriendly manner, and she felt distinctly on edge in his presence.

“It is our honour to be able to finally return.” In spite of her discomfort, Dís found herself returning the expected delicacies. Years of studying politics came to her rescue, the words flowing from her lips her without thought.

“Hopefully, your coming heralds a new and brighter future for us. Certainly, your arrival makes for more excitement than the Blue Mountains have seen in a long while.” Dís pretended not to hear the blatant edge of reprimand in Ímundur’s words. Inwardly, she cursed Ábria for not warning her about just how unhappy the dwarrow of the Blue Mountains were. Later, they’d be having a discussion about what information Dís expected Ábria to pass on to her.

 

* * *

 

It had been nigh on fifteen years since Dís had left the West. She hadn’t really missed the landscape nor some of the dwarrow whom she'd left behind. It was true, she had raised her sons in Ered Luin and the Blue Mountains, but all of her true friends had come East with her. The memories that Dís had of the West were of hardship and anxiety. She had been left behind time and time again; abandoned to await bad news. 

Still, she and Thorin had known better than to let the reported malcontent fester so, when the invitation had come from the Blue Mountains, Dís and Fíli had set out. All they’d known then were the rumours. Since arriving, however, it had become painfully clear that the rumours had only ever lessened the problem. 

Since Thorin had taken the throne in Erebor a lot of things had changed for the dwarrow. Of course her brother had rewarded the members of the Company who had stood by him, giving them all lordships and places of honour in society as well as large portions of the treasure. Such promotions, however, for so many dwarrow of what were considered ‘lesser’ bloodlines upset the old blooded lords and ladies. Moreover, Thorin had set about choosing new advisors for his Grand Council, basing his selections on their merit, not their bloodline. His appointments angered many of the so-called nobles who had assumed that the return of Erebor automatically entitled them to positions in Thorin’s Court. 

Dís had worried with Balin and Dwalin about the disturbances, but Thorin had been determined. Nothing would stop him from appointing only advisors whom he trusted, regardless of their lineage. Although Dís approved, and even would go so far as to agree with her brother, the decisions also meant that they were facing a possible insurgence in the West. Folk were, apparently, plotting to reclaim Moria; no doubt hoping that then they could rival Thorin and Erebor in terms of strength and wealth. Moria, the rumours claimed, would be a chance to restore the glory of the old days to the dwarrow. Glory, Dís knew, that only bloodlines and old money could bring. 

Dís had disregarded the rumours whilst still in Erebor. The Lonely Mountain was doing well and it was the first time in years that dwarrow had been so prosperous, but here things were not the same. The dwarrow still clung to their wealth, but the robes and gowns that Dís had seen thus far had clearly been taken in. Folks were hungry and angry because dwarrow of lesser bloodlines were prospering. Though Dís would never rule herself, on account of her being female, she’d been in the lessons the same as Thorin and Frerin. She knew well that danger always came when people were upset, and hunger never helped. Now, Thorin had upset them, had threatened their wealth and livelihoods and the blood was up in dwarrow societies. Knowing the infamous dwarrow pride, it would not take much more for them to march against each other for the sake of riches and titles. Personally, Dís could not imagine anything worse than another war. _Hadn’t she lost enough already?_ she mourned privately.

From where she sat, Dís glanced over to where Fíli was entertaining another noble. Her golden son caught her gaze and nodded ever so slightly. He too understood just how dangerous things had gotten. She knew that he had received the same training as she had; most of the time she’d been the one to teach him the working of politics and warnings from history herself. Now though, he was finally able to use his skills. There was no Thorin here: it was all on her and Fíli to head off the potential rebellion. 

 

* * *

 

“Princess?” Dís shook herself back to the present, finding a less courteous Ímundur all-but glaring at her. Instead of telling him to be on his way as she longed to do, however, Dís took a deep breath and forced herself to smile continue with their conversation. Her efforts did not seem to improve Ímundur’s disposition overmuch, but there was nothing in her manners that could substitute an official complaint either. 

This meeting was one of dozens that Dís had endured since her arrival a few days before. Meetings and teas, long dinners filled with pleasantries that no one really cared about and other such appearances had filled her schedule. It was all frightfully dull but unfortunately it was also all part of Dís’s job as Princess. She’d dreamed of the day that they’d reclaim Erebor, but she had never factored in these political obligations and, to be honest, she hated it.

Her ensuing conversation with Ímundur was tensely boring, though Dís didn’t dare let any of her frustrations show, nor did she resort to dragging Ábria in to the conversation to save her from the tedium. Nearly a half hour later the lord finally retreated. Privately, Dís was surprised that he could even walk considering how heavily adorned he was in gold and jewels. When the doors finally closed she sighed, and looked across at where Fíli sat, looking equally exhausted. 

“Well are there any more?” Dís asked, turning to Dwalin, who was there as their personal guard.

“That’s all for today.” he said with a slight smile, and Dís saw from the corner of her gaze as Fíli slumped in relief in his high-backed chair.

“Finally.” Fíli couldn’t seem to help but murmur while Dís rose from her own uncomfortably ornate chair.

“May I get you anything, Princess?” Ábria made her presence known. Although Ímundur had been there for over half an hour, she had not greeted her kin nor said anything else. It was not out of a lack of closeness, as Dís understood Ábria was close with her kin, but rather because it was not strictly appropriate for Ábria to greet her kin whilst actively in Dís's presence. Ábria was in the Blue Mountains in official capacity only and that meant that, so long as she was tending to Dís, she was to be seen, not heard, and to fetch anything that the princess might want. Of course, Dís had offered to bring another dwarrowdam and to give Ábria time off, but as traditional as her aide was, Ábria had stubbornly refused to accept anything save a few hours off of her duty in the evenings.

“I didn’t realize that things here were so hostile.” Dís fixed her lady with a hard look. It wasn’t that Dís didn’t like the dwarrowdam, Ábria had proved herself to be straightforward, discrete, and efficient in her service, but now Dís was beginning to wonder at her loyalty.

“I’m afraid my Uncle did not specify how upset the dwarrow were.” Ábria explained softly with a curtsy, not meeting Dís’s eye and, for the first time since accepting Ábria’s offer of service, Dís doubted her honesty.

“I’m fine for now, thank you.” Dís said in response to Ábria's earlier question. 

“Very good, Princess.” Ábria curtsied again and then retreated to her own hard seat. 

The dwarrowdam usually proved to be pleasant enough company, but Dís could not shake the niggling of doubt that had begun to plague her since her meeting with Ímundur. Ábria had served Dís now for nigh on three years. Since arriving in Erebor, Dís had been forced into having a serving lady, it was expected of her station and it was also true that, to appear as a Princess was expected, Dís needed help with her hair and elaborate gowns. Throughout the day, however, Ábria spent most of her time following Dís as she attended to her business. In the old days Princesses were more decorative, and if Erebor had not fallen then Dís might easily have had over a dozen serving ladies to send about the Mountain on her business. Dís, however, had grown up on the road, settling her people and attending to their affairs herself and it felt too cold and distant to send others to do Dís’s work. Moreover, she was used to getting things done herself, and no matter if she liked Ábria, she did not fancy sending someone else in her place. Ábria may have been confused at first, but she had seemed to get used to it, Dís thought. Now, seeing the family that Ábria had come from, however, Dís was having second thoughts. Over the years she’d offered Ábria a job in any chosen craft, but the dwarrowdam stubbornly swore that her chosen craft was taking care of Dís. It hadn’t made sense to Dís, but neither had she really cared before to ponder Ábria or her aspirations. She wasn’t proud of the way that Ábria and her personal life rarely crossed Dís’s mind, but she’d had no problems with Ábria until now. Dís rubbed a hand over her forehead absent-mindedly, feeling tired, confused and more than a little frustrated.

 

* * *

 

“I didn’t realize that things in the West were so grim.” Fíli admitted and she turned, looking at him.

“Neither did I. We all underestimated the rumours though, and now there’s nothing we can do but try and fix it. We’ve lived through enough wars so, I know that we will not fail, not if there is any other possible solution.” Dís declared and Fíli nodded, determination blazing in his gaze.

“What should we do?” he asked and Dís sighed.

“I don’t know yet,” she confessed, “but we’ll find a way.” Dís filled her voice with more bravado than she felt. 

Other than thinly-veiled words of welcome, intended to force Fíli and Dís back to more traditional political views, the resounding message of the Blue Mountains was one of need. They had food for the winter, but the crops were failing. Erebor welcomed dwarrow of all social standing so wealth and the promise of a better life had been overwhelming. The amount of dwarrow traveling to Erebor had led to a decreasing trend in food production in the Blue Mountains and, for the most part, only the wealthy traditionalists refused to move. Naturally, they also refused to sign trade agreements with Erebor in retaliation for perceived snubs, but in the end it did more harm than good. As the number of nobles and working class dwarrow fell out of balance, it became common knowledge: sooner rather than later there would be a grave shortage of supplies.

“We need to get advice, help to grow more food first of all. If we can keep the fear of starvation off the table then they will be more amenable to future parlay.” Dís said and Fíli frowned.

“ _Amad._ ” he warned.

“They’re farmers, they’re nearby, and I’m sure we can convince them to help us.” Dís replied.

“You mean the hobbits?” Dwalin spoke up and Dís turned to eye him.

“Of course.” she replied evenly, daring her life-long friend to challenge her proclamation.

Although Dwalin predictably bristled, it was Fíli who spoke, “they don’t like outsiders. They’re innocent and helpless and we’re likely facing civil war. We’d be dragging them into certain death.” Fíli stood, and marched past Dís towards the doors. “I’ll be back later. I want to go for a ride, I need the fresh air.” he said, and Dís frowned.

“Be careful!” she called after her son. Fíli paused and nodded before disappearing. 

They’d spent months coming from Erebor. Fíli’s excuse was a weak one, not to mention the danger of his being alone. If they were so close to a civil war then, surely, Fíli would be a keystone. Dís prayed, however, that his status and apparent neutrality thus far would be exactly what kept him safe because she knew better than to demand he stay. Focusing on the main issue at hand, however, Dís straightened her shoulders in resolution. Dís had been refused answers about the hobbit, Bilba, time and time again, from her family and the rest of the Company, but no longer.

“Dwalin, I believe you need to tell me about what happened with the Company’s,” Dwalin’s eyes slid pointedly to where Ábria continued to sit apparently unobtrusively on her stool, and Dís cursed herself. She was used to Ábria lingering, but Dwalin was right. He obviously began to suspect the dwarrowdam’s loyalty as well, and Dís nodded slightly to him, before turning to Ábria.

“You know, Ábria, on second thought, I could do with a cup of tea and perhaps a light dinner. We have no obligations for tonight so could you see to it?” Ábria rose with a curtsy, and left, though the fact that Dís simply wanted rid of her did not seem to go unnoticed. Dwalin raised an eyebrow as the dwarrowdam disappeared, and Dís shrugged. 

“Close the doors and come.” Dís ordered, after Ábria's footsteps had faded. The warrior sighed but did as he was told, turning back to her with a resigned look. “Now, will you tell me what happened with the Company’s burglar?” 

“I don’t see why that’s relevant.” Dwalin dismissed, meeting Dís’s gaze and, for a moment, neither of them moved.

“I believe that you do.” Dís returned evenly. They had not only been friends for years, they had been raised together, as cousins and playmates. No matter what Dwalin might claim about propriety, there was no one living, likely not even Thorin, who knew Dís so well.

"Bilba Baggins died fifteen years ago." Dwalin said flatly, "what I think I saw, it’s not possible.” Dwalin replied tensely and, for another long moment, they were silent.

“You saw her too then, I thought that you would.” Dís finally said and Dwalin’s proud shoulders slumped. “You saw my brother in the hobbit lass we spotted on the road a fortnight ago.”

“Bilba wouldn’t have hid from us. Especially not that, she would have come back.” The raw emotion in Dwalin’s voice startled Dís. He was not a dwarf to let others know what he thought or felt, unless it was anger. It had taken Dís years to truly understand her play fellow and, even then, if they had not been raised together much of Dwalin would have seemed a mystery to her. In spite of that, however, Dís had felt certain that she knew Dwalin. Or, that was until the Quest. Since then, she felt that she'd been losing her touch. Once upon a time she'd thought herself knowledgeable and perhaps even intuitive when it came to knowing dwarrow, but her skill seemed to have waned. Furthermore, Dís had been hard pressed to find out anything about the hobbit who had travelled with her family. Listening to Dwalin speak about the hobbit, however, Dís realized that, finally, she was about to get her answers.

“Why don’t you tell me about what happened and we can go from there.” Dís suggested firmly, turning and heading back towards the private sitting room, away from the public receiving chamber that she and Fíli had been given. Dwalin hesitated as Dís held the door open, but finally followed her into the private rooms.

 

* * *

 

Almost sixteen years ago Thorin reclaimed Erebor. Dís had been so happy to hear the news and to know that she was no longer an exile. Thorin’s success gave her a legacy to pass on to her sons and, perhaps more importantly: a future. Then the news had come. Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli had almost died taking Erebor back. 

Dís had known that it would be a risky endeavour, but she had never really believed that Thorin, Fíli, and Kíli wouldn’t return to her. She’d feared it, but she’d told herself time and time again that it was a groundless fear. Thorin was to blame for that, she supposed. He and her father both had been so certain that, when the time was right, they would return to Erebor in triumph. Granted, when her father, Thráin, had left her to march on Azanulbizar they had said the same thing: they were the descendants of Durin and, therefore, they couldn’t fail. She should have learned after that. She didn’t.

When she got the news, it had been a message dispatched by some cruel accident: Thorin and her sons were dead. It was then, when she thought that her world was crashing down about her that Dís had really realized what was at stake. She had not lived a life of luxury in Ered Luin, both she and Thorin had worked hard to put a roof over the boys’ heads and to provide them with enough food, but they had all been happy. More importantly, they had also all been alive and together. 

Dís had been happy before the dragon came. At least, from what she could remember that was. Certainly, Dís had been young, a mere twelve years old when Smaug had attacked, but she had not truly known what it meant to be cold, hungry, or unhappy. Their mother had been grievously injured while bodily protecting Dís from the dragon fire. Although Frerin had managed to carry her from the Mountain, she had succumbed to her wounds shortly thereafter. Dís had been healed, though she’d carry scars to the end of her days. After Erebor fell, Thrór and Thráin had become consumed with a determination to reclaim Moria and return their people to their former glory. As a result, Thorin had become father and mother both to Dís and Frerin, providing for and protecting them. For that reason, in Dís's eyes it was like her brother could do nothing wrong.

Thorin had stayed with Frerin and Dís until she had come of age. Then, he too had disappeared; off in search of their errant family members. He had returned to see her wed her One. Víli had been a healer in training, whom she had met when he healed her after Dwalin broke her arm in a sparring match. Dwalin, ever an over-protective brother figure in her life, had hovered until Víli made up an excuse to send him away. Dís had found herself charmed almost immediately, and they had stayed up all night talking and the courtship that followed well, Dwalin had joined forces with Frerin, becoming a pair of determined chaperones and feeling responsible for ensuring that all of the proper courtship rules were followed.

Not long into their marriage, Dís was blessed with the birth of Fíli, but Dís had only just gotten settled with her young son when, she’d lost everything again. Her grandfather, King Thrór had been determined to give their people something better than the impoverished lives that they’d been forced into. So, he had rallied a dwarrow army to be proud of. Of course Thráin had gone, taking Thorin, Frerin, and Dwalin with him and even her sweet Víli had joined the campaign. Víli had never been a warrior, he was a healer and he hated violence with a passion. It was sadistically ironic then that the Battle of Azanulbizar was responsible for destroying Dís’s wedded bliss. No matter how the bards glorified the event, it was a tragedy. It might have made Thorin his name, but when he’d returned to Dís he’d been alone. She’d lost her grandfather, Frerin, and the love of her life in one brutal campaign. Only baby Fíli and the pregnancy, that Víli had never even known of, kept Dís going. She still mourned the fact that Kíli had never met Víli though, and wished that Víli could at least have known about Kíli’s existence when he travelled on to the Halls of their Maker. One day she knew she’d be reunited with him, but that day had to be far in the future.

Thorin had stayed with her after that, had helped her to raise the boys, and to give them a future. Dís would always be in his debt for that and when he’d told them all stories about reclaiming Erebor, she’d been just as caught up in them. Dís’s losses had fuelled her anger and her determination to take back what she’d lost. She burned with the desire to give her sons what the world had stripped from her. In the end though, that determination had almost killed them.

After Dís arrived in Erebor, no one would speak to her about what had happened on the journey or what caused the Battle. At least, not in much detail. To her frustration Thorin refused to be bullied, she could not trick Fíli or Kíli into telling her, and even Balin and Dwalin, who were practically her kin, were tight-lipped. It had been Daín who first mentioned the hobbit to Dís, and even then she had only just gotten a name: Bilbo. When she tried to get information from her family, or the rest of the Company, they dodged her questions and it was almost a year later when Thorin finally gave her more information. 

Well, to be more exact, Thorin had publicly declared that Bilba Belladonna Baggins was to be pardoned. Dís had pretended not to be as surprised as the rest of the Council, but she had been. It was the first time that she even realized that Bilbo was Bilba; a she, not a he. Following the announcement, however, Thorin stubbornly began to flee whenever he caught sight of her while Fíli resorted to stoic silence, and even her sweet Kíli lashed out against her questions. The rest of the Company had been equally unforthcoming, no matter how Dís tried to charm or threaten them. Normally, such failure would have irked her but, slowly, she had come to realize just how important the hobbit had been to all of them.

As the years passed, Dís had gradually given up. She’d stopped asking questions and planting hints in their conversation to lead to the hobbit. She’d also stopped trying to get her sons to forgive Thorin. The way that her family had splintered was, perhaps, the hardest aspect of the quest for her to accept. 

Eventually, Fíli had forgiven Thorin, or at least had agreed to move on from whatever had happened in the past. It made Dís incredibly happy to finally see the two of them together again, their heads held close together over parchments, their voices raised as they debated various matters, or their skin damp with sweat from sessions in the training yards. Although they were finally back to spending time together and, occasionally, even laughing, Kíli still refused to be around his uncle. Her youngest still fled from Erebor at every chance he got and Dís had no idea how to make it better.

 

* * *

 

“It’s not a pretty story. ” Dwalin said, startling Dís back to the present. He stood opposite her, looking sad and resigned.

“I gathered.” Dís replied, meeting the warrior’s gaze unflinchingly.

“Thorin, he was sick, Dís. He got the gold sickness.” Dwalin admitted, his voice filled with regret for events that had transpired years ago.

“Daín suspected that he did.” Dís agreed and Dwalin nodded. She had spent many an hour with their cousin from the Iron Hills, speculating about what had happened to the Company of Thorin Oakenshield after they had reached the Mountain. It had, however, only been speculation before. Try as they might, they’d never been able to get anything confirmed. Finally, Dís thought, she’d know for sure.

“I believe that you should start from the beginning.” Dwalin sighed, and nodded.

 

* * *

 

Dís hadn’t ever heard the full story about the quest. She had figured that, when her sons told her what happened, they’d likely left things out, but she had not expected quite so many omissions. It had been clear from the start that reclaiming Erebor was possibly a suicide mission, but as Dís listened she began to realize just how much she owed the hobbit. The quest had really only ever succeeded because of Bilba’s selfless bravery and sheer dumb luck. 

Dís sat silently after Dwalin finished, trying to absorb it all. Remembering how she had begged Thorin to take her sons along, how she’d insisted that Kíli not be separated from his brother; Dís wanted to cry. She had been far too caught up in the glory of Erebor as a sign of hope for her people, and when her family had refused to celebrate their success, she’d tried to cheer them up. She had not known what to say or how to make things better so she had assumed that moving on was the best thing for all of them. Now, knowing, she realized the mistake that she’d made.

“I realized that Thorin loved her, but I thought that his grief was an apology, that he was trying to atone for not protecting her when she needed him. I never imagined that he was capable of that much hurt.” Dís said faintly.

All of her life, Thorin had been her pillar. She had always emulated Thorin, and privately, it was more than that. Dís didn’t want to be _like_ Thorin, she wanted to _be_ Thorin.Thorin was capable and respected, with just cause. He was their peoples’ Prince and their saviour, he could do no wrong in their eyes, in her eyes; not really. She’d had her rows with him before, especially when it came to being a bad influence on her boys, but she’d never truly hated him because somewhere, sometimes very deep down, she’d always trusted that he knew better. He had all but raised her after all, and Dís didn’t think that she’d come out too badly. Now, however, she was beginning to feel both grateful that she was not the same as her brother and as though he wasn’t quite as infallible as she’d previously assumed. Perhaps, rather, he needed her just as much as she needed him and his confidence was all bravado, not just mostly. Dís understood what it was like to live up to society’s expectation but because of his behvaiour, she simply had never thought that Thorin could be as much a captive as she.

“He’s still my King and my friend, aye.” Dwalin interrupted her musings.

“You know I would never betray my brother.” Dís snapped, and Dwalin offered her a respectful smile and slight bow of his bald head.

“I grew up the same as you. He could never do anything wrong, I’ve been shown that’s not always the case, but I love him the same. I know you love him too, but never hurts to remind.” he replied gently and Dís scoffed.

“I would sooner die than see any harm come to my brother or my sons. You of all people ought to know that.” Dís rose to her feet meeting Dwalin’s gaze and he nodded. They were close and she expected him to know better than that. Certainly, her perception of Thorin had changed, but that didn’t mean that anything was about to change.

“It was never Uncle’s fault. We couldn’t have known that he would get the gold sickness, but it does not excuse him either.”Dís sighed and turned her attention to the doorway of the room where Fíli had silently appeared.

“I don’t blame Thorin.” Dís looked first at Dwalin before she finally met her son’s cautious gaze. “I saw our grandfather fall to gold sickness, I am aware of its strength.” 

“We should have been more careful. You told Kíli and I so many stories, and Thorin raised us as much as you. We should have at least realized that something was wrong. It was our responsibility to look after him as much as he was to look after us. Moreover, it was my responsibility as his heir, to do something and I didn’t. I failed.” Dís saw the unveiled anguish in Fíli’s gaze as her son spoke.

“No.” Dís moved over to her eldest son, finally beginning to realize what had caused him to change so much. The guilt, she now understood, had been eating away at him all of these years, but he’d never said anything. Instead, Fíli had striven, if not even more, to be the perfect Crown Prince for the past fifteen years. For all of his life it was true, she and Thorin had groomed Fíli to one day become the King, but he had always been wild. He and Kíli had run amuck, playing off of each other. Since they reclaimed Erebor that boy had disappeared and, though Dís had pretended to disapprove of their shenanigans, she missed the son who had disappeared when Crown Prince Fíli emerged.

“I was no child when we tried to reclaim Erebor, I have no excuse for doing nothing. I was trusted to be Thorin’s heir and that was not simply a fancy title, it was responsibility, at least that’s what it meant to me.” Dís smiled sadly, and then reached out and pulled Fíli to her.

“I am your mother, Fíli, you know I love you. I will always love you and I will always be proud of you. I don’t blame you for not realizing that something was wrong with Thorin.” she murmured. “It has been over a decade and I have still been so carelessly oblivious.”

“What got Dwalin to tell you anything in the first place?” Fíli drew back, shooting a glance at the guard before turning back to Dís. She swallowed and glanced towards Dwalin, silently asking if they should tell Fíli.

“I saw something when we passed the Shire, a hobbit,” Dwalin admitted.

“It’s the Shire.” Fíli frowned as he looked between his mother and Dwalin.

“She was a child and she looked just like your uncle.” Dís said gently.

“What do you mean?” Fíli fixed his gaze directly on her, forcing her to say it even though his gaze betrayed the fact that he suspected where they were going with this.

“I believe that Bilba may be alive and with a lass to boot.” Dwalin answered for Dís and she saw the grief and hope mingled in his gaze.

“Bilba died during the Battle of Five Armies, Dwalin, we buried her.” Fíli said carefully, turning to look at the warrior, his voice hoarse with emotion.

“We never found her body.” Dwalin replied, equally emotionally.

“No, Dwalin, there was no way that she could have survived. She didn’t even know how to fight. We failed to teach her and we failed to protect her. She was there during the Battle, she was fighting and protecting _us_ even after we had abandoned her! When we failed to find her after the battle that was the last time that we could have failed her because even if she did survive then surely she would have been wounded and she never sought medical help.” Fíli insisted and Dís frowned. _So_ , she reflected, _it wasn’t just Thorin who felt personally responsible for the hobbit’s death_ , if Fíli’s words were anything to go by, Dís didn’t doubt that all of the Company suffered from guilt. Certainly, it would also go a long way in explaining Kíli’s behaviour.

“Lad, what if we were wrong?” Dwalin thundered and Fíli flinched.

“Then we betrayed her again, especially if she has a daughter.” Fíli replied, the fight going out of his voice before he turned and disappeared into his private room, the door slamming behind him. Dís flinched at the sound, exchanging a glance with Dwalin, who also looked shaken up and upset.

“Thorin, he’s regretted her death, but you are certain, Dwalin, she was his One? He’ll take her back? Support her and love her and their child?” Dís steeled herself and made the demand.

“He loved that Lass, Dís, I’ve never seen him happier. Bilba Baggins may not have been a dwarf, but she was certainly his One.” Dwalin promised, and Dís nodded.

“Good, I needed to hear that.” Dís murmured, feeling a pang of guilt for ever having doubted Thorin’s feelings.

“They made the rest of us feel quite sick at times.” Dwalin admitted. “Far too enamoured of each other what with the close quarters. I can promise you, Dís, your brother and that Lassie loved each other, but what she feels now? Fíli was right, we betrayed and abandoned her when she needed friends the most.”

“Perhaps, but I suppose there’s only one thing that we can do now.” Dís said, releasing a long breath. “These dwarrow need to learn to farm better anyways. If we make ourselves accessible in the Shire then, perhaps, we can learn more and we’ll make decisions from there. Please, send a messenger at once.”

“I’ll go.” Dwalin said, and Dís paused. “If there’s a chance she’s there, she deserves some warning that dwarrow are coming, and I personally owe her an apology. I made a promise to the Lass and I didn’t just break it, Dís, I trampled it. I won’t be gone long, I’ll ride hard, make the arrangements for the dwarrow to learn from the hobbits, and track that girl. I should be back in a matter of days.” Dwalin said and Dís nodded, granting him permission to undertake the mission. Both of them knew though, if Bilba was there then Dwalin would not be back, not until he had earned her forgiveness and, certainly not if she had any need of him. That was the kind of dwarf that Dwalin was. 

“We’ll be safe here. Fíli and I can protect ourselves. If you find out anything, send word.” Dís said. “I’ll make the announcement tomorrow that we’re seeking aid from the Shire. You should rest for now.”

“I’ll leave now if it’s all the same to you. The sooner that I’m gone the sooner I’ll be back. I’ll leave you with enough trusted guards here.” Dwalin said, and Dís nodded her agreement. It was not ideal to have Dwalin leave, not when they had arrived so recently and there was obvious political unrest but, especially after what she’d heard, Dís could not refuse her oldest friend. He was practically kin to Dís and her family and to see him up in arms over this hobbit, well, suffice to say she trusted Dwalin’s judgement.

“I’ll send word if anything’s wrong, if not we’ll set a date for you to visit in an official capacity.” Dwalin said, and then he departed, leaving Dís to her swirling thoughts. 

Dís was only vaguely aware when Ábria reappeared, a tray with tea and a simple dinner in her hands. Staring into the fire, Dís ignored as the dwarrowdam settled down with some needlework. When she finally took a sip of the tea she found it had gone cold. She frowned, not thinking that she’d been lost that long in her thoughts, but dismissed the thought.

“I fear I’m quite tired from the day. I’m not as hungry as I thought and I’d like to retire.” she stood and Ábria nodded and followed her into her chambers, abandoning the all but untouched tray. Silently, Ábria helped Dís to remove her bejewelled hairpins before she helped her out of her extravagant gown. Dís didn’t acknowledge when Ábria slipped from the room right afterwards and, late into the night, she still found herself lying awake, thinking about her family and the hobbit that seemed to be at the centre of all the drama.


	6. five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilba faces her captors.

**AN: Thanks for the continued support! Sorry that this is later than I wanted. It took me a while to write and then to edit! Hopefully after this updates can come more regularly, just moving back home after a semester abroad and extra traveling! :) Please let me know what you think!**

 

***Formatting fixed, sorry if you read it before and it was weird, I was rushing to post (cause I just couldn't wait) before boarding a plane ;)**

* * *

 

_ five _

Bilba

* * *

 

_** Somewhere Around the Border of the Old Forest ** _

_** mid-September 2958 ** _

 

Bilba woke with a start to realize that she was riding in a saddle. At first she was felt unexplainably confused, but then it all came rushing back. She’d been kidnapped. She and Raven had heard wolves and then, Bilba had been in the henhouse to gather hay for the animals brought into the smial when something had struck the back of her head. As though triggered by her remembering the attack, Bilba’s skull began to throb. She shifted, and a strong hand caught her before she could overbalance and fall from the saddle.

“I won’t catch you, if you fall.” a voice warned. Bilba’s eyes snapped open, and she spun around, causing her captor to do just that: catch her again. He was a dwarf, she realized in shocked surprise. He seemed to be of middle age, with a full blonde beard that was kept neat in two simple braids. He wore travelling clothes that looked new and of fine quality and had a pair of axes on his back. Bilba didn’t know much about weaponry, but the pair seemed to be of high quality, much like the dwarf’s garments. Last night she hadn’t gotten a good look at her assailants but, whatever she’d been expecting, it hadn’t been a dwarf on pony back.

“What did I tell you about squirming?” the dwarf growled, as Bilba tried to right herself to little success.

“Who are you? Where are we going? What happened?” Bilba murmured, the questions falling from her lips without pause. _Why would dwarrow kidnap me?_ she wondered, her mind feeling oddly fuzzy.

“None of that matters now.” the dwarf grumbled dismissively.

“You kidnapped me, this isn’t some vacation I planned.” Bilba babbled and the dwarf scoffed behind her. “So, why did you take me and where are we going?” 

“I’ve orders.” the dwarf grumbled in response, and Bilba thought his answer was an attempt to stop her questions, not that it worked.

“Orders from who?” 

“That’s none of your business, halfling.” the dwarf spat, and Bilba began to lean back before an alarming realization shot through her. Raven. Her daughter, Raven was not with her.

“Raven,” Bilba murmured as the dwarf was forced to catch her again before she overbalanced.

“If you fall off of the horse you’ll be walking.” the dwarf threatened.

“Raven,” Bilba protested, “where’s Raven?” 

“We don’t have any ravens, not that I understand why you’d be so concerned anyways, not like you’d have a message to send.” Bilba frowned at the response, of course she didn’t expect them to send a message. All she wanted was her daughter.

“Not a raven, my Raven, she’s still a child.” Bilba mumbled. Behind her, the dwarf cursed.

“Finnvari!” the dwarrow called and Bilba craned her head, nearly falling again, as another dwarrow appeared. He was also well-dressed with a more elegantly braided dark brown beard and rich clothing and weapons. 

“What, Nyrin?” the dwarf snapped, his accent thicker.

“There’s a lass, we left a child back at the hobbit’s hole.” Nyrin replied and Finnvari’s scowl deepened.

“You have a daughter?” he demanded of Bilba.

“Her name’s Raven.” Bilba found herself saying before she realized that it might have been safer to keep Raven out of it all.

“How old?” Nyrin demanded, sounding worried. As ridiculous as it sounded, the worry in Nyrin’s voice soothed Bilba’s own nerves. It made sense, Bilba reasoned, because no matter why or how she herself might be involved in this scheme, she doubted any dwarrow would intentionally bring an innocent child, especially a girl, into danger.

“Fifteen years.” Bilba found herself replying, hope welling in her chest. Surely they wouldn’t hurt Raven, and she would feel so much better if she knew that her daughter was safe. Over her head Nyrin turned to Finnvari and said something in Khuzdul that Bilba did not understand. Finnvari scowled, but nodded and then turned his pony and disappeared down the road.

“Where’s he going?” Bilba craned her neck, trying to watch as the other dwarf disappeared.

“To find your lassie.” Nyrin told her, but after that, Bilba could get no answers from him. She demanded to know why she had been taken, where they were going and, most of all, what was going to happen to Raven, but Nyrin never answered her. _Curse the stubbornness of dwarrow,_ Bilba thought as she finally succumbed to the drowsiness that had plagued her since returning to consciousness.

 

* * *

 

Bilba came to several more times, but could not stay awake for long. Once, she had to beg Nyrin to stop so that she could relieve herself. At first, a fantastical idea of using the time to slip her magic ring on and disappear crossed Bilba’s mind. After all, she still had it in her pocket, but even then, Nyrin seemed to suspect her and forced Bilba to go only behind a boulder from which point he could see her top half. Shortly thereafter, she found herself again on the horse with Nyrin, fat raindrops falling and confusing her sense of time. When they stopped, Nyrin woke her and offered her half a loaf of bread and a cup of water. Although she still felt a little nauseous, Bilba forced the food down, admitting at least to herself that she did feel a little better after the food. Neither she nor Nyrin spoke, and she curled herself on the wet ground, trying to stop her shivering as the night cooled. She thought briefly again about escape, but her exhaustion was overwhelming and, _surely_ , she reasoned with herself, _a few hours of sleep wouldn’t hurt._

 

* * *

 

 

When Bilba woke, it was morning and there was a cloak laid across her. Nyrin didn’t respond when she thanked him for the loan, but neither did he take it back, and Bilba soon found herself bundled back up onto the pony. Luckily, her head felt better, and she hoped that the rest had done her some good.

“The other dwarf, has he gone to fetch Raven?” Bilba asked as Nyrin kicked the pony into a trot.

“He’ll make sure that the little lassie is safe.” Nryin assured her, but it did little to assuage Bilba’s nerves.

“Do you have children, Nyrin?” Bilba tried, hoping to find a way to connect with the dwarf and, after all, he had sounded very concerned when she mentioned Raven. _Perhaps, it was the worry of a father for a child?_ Bilba mused.

“No.” Nyrin replied tersely, and Bilba’s hopes of connecting to the dwarrow diminished.

“Are you married?” Bilba tried again.

“No.” 

“Surely there’s some lovely dwarrowdam? Or dwarrow?” Nyrin bit out a curse and Bilba winced. Obviously, this was not going well, or at least not the way that she’d hoped, but what else could she do?

“I’ve a job to do, chattering me up isn’t going to make me turn a blind eye and let you go escaping.” Nyrin growled.

“I’d never ask something like that of you, but if we’re bound to be in each other’s company for a while then I wouldn’t say no to some conversation.” Bilba replied. Nyrin grunted, but said nothing else. Bilba continued to attempt to draw him out, but even after she resorted to asking about his weapons, Nyrin failed to engage in conversation.

As they continued to trot down the road, the hours wearing on into midday, Bilba’s head began to throb again and she finally fell into an uneasy sleep. Nyrin’s arms wrapped around her, and despite his gruff words, she was sure that he wouldn’t actually let her fall. _Perhaps only because my falling would slow our departure,_ Bilba reasoned, but all the same, she let herself fall into a light sleep.

 

* * *

 

 

Nyrin woke Bilba to offer her food and the chance to relieve herself, though his watch never lessened enough for her to slip away. When she was finished she curled up again, her mind wandering. She wanted to run, but the other dwarf had gone after Raven; _what if he had found her?_ _What would happen should he return with Raven to find that I escaped_? 

Bilba stirred from a light sleep when she heard the sound of hoofbeats. She let her eyes open slightly as Finnvari dismounted, looking thoroughly mud-splattered and exhausted. 

“Raven, did you find my Raven?” Bilba forced herself to sit up, hindered by the way that Nyrin kept her hands and feet bound and ignoring the way that the world spun around her.

“She’s been taken care of.” the dwarf, Finnvari, replied with a sneer, and Bilba felt a cold dread flash through her.

“Where is she? Is she alive? Unharmed? What have you done to her? What have you done to my daughter?” Bilba demanded, panic blooming in her chest. 

Nyrin, who was also awake, approached his companion, offering him a canteen of something, likely alcohol, half a loaf of bread, a hunk of dried meat and some cheese though he looked worried by Finnvari’s tidings. In spite of her anger and fear, Bilba couldn’t help as her stomach growled. She had eaten earlier, but stress often made her hungrier. She ignored it, and hoped that the dwarrow had not heard her hunger. Surely, after all, they would not understand how she could still be hungry, and explaining hobbit metabolism wasn’t something that she liked to explain even on a good day. Privately, she cursed her hobbit metabolism, why did worry of all things make her more hungry? She’d hated it years ago when she’d been a member of the Company and she hated it now.

“What happened is none of your business. I’m tired and hungry and not in a mood to be pestered. You would do well to remember that, halfling, and to know that I am in charge of your fate.” Finnvari growled and Bilba stilled. Although he had not confirmed that he had raven, he was more powerful than she, at least right now, and if Raven was being protected by his associates, well, there were many things that he could do to Raven without causing her any real danger.

“If I behave, you’ll make sure that Raven comes to no harm?” Bilba asked shakily, facing the dwarrow.

“If you behave.” Finnvari reluctantly agreed, pausing between bites to answer her.

“Very well.” Bilba settled back on the ground. She knew that she had to find out if they really did have Raven, but there was no way, she tought, that she’d find out if they thought she was awake. For a while, Bilba made a point of tossing and turning, as though trying to get to sleep, but then, finally, she let her body still and her breathing even out. She hoped that it would be convincing enough, that they would believe that she was actually asleep. For a while longer, the clearing was filled with silence and Bilba had nearly given up when she heard Nyrin’s voice.

“What happened with the child?” If it was possible, Bilba’s ears would have perked up. 

“I couldn’t find her. I rode back to the smial, but it was empty. I’ve no idea what happened. There was no sign of a struggle though. I didn’t stay to look either though. The guard, the King’s guard, was to ride out for the Shire, that’s what Ria told my sire, and I couldn’t afford to have him catch me. He’d have my beard and braids if he caught me there and it would put the whole mission in jeopardy.” Finnvari explained, and Bilba felt a wave of relief. Raven hadn’t ben found, Finnvari and Nyrin had no way of making Bilba behave and neither would they expect her to break her word. Additionally, Raven was being kept out of this peril, but the more that Bilba thought about her daughter being left alone, the larger the knot in her belly grew. Bilba wasn’t sure if she should be more glad to keep Raven out of this or more worried about where Raven actually was, and what her daughter would inevitably face without her.

“I don’t like the thought of a wee lass being alone, especially because of us.” Nryin said, sounding more worried than he had ever let on in front of Bilba.

“And you think that I like leaving a little lassie exposed? I may not care for the King, but girls are just as sacred to me as they are to you or any other dwarrow.” Finnvari snapped, and Bilba listened even more intently, hoping that the dwarrow might give away more information about the scheme that Bilba herself was apparently caught up in.

“Do you think then that the lass’ll be cared for?” Nyrin asked as Bilba all but held her breath in anticipation of an answer.

“The king’s guard will find her, I’m sure. You’ve seen him with the king’s nephews and sister, fiercely protective, if he knew there was another Princess? He’ll find her and not let anything hurt that girl save indigestion from eating too much.” Finnvari replied, and Bilba felt her stomach give an odd flip. 

Dwalin, it had to be Dwalin that they were talking about. She knew well too just how protective he could be, because once upon a time it had been she who had been the recipient of his protectiveness. Although the idea of Dwalin looking after Raven was a comfort, if it was even him coming, he would have no way of knowing about Raven. At least, not unless she’d been correct, and Dís had spotted her from the road. Even then, Bilba feared that her daughter might have been wrong, and that no one would know to look for her or to protect her. _Don’t discredit her,_ Bilba reminded herself, Raven was resourceful, she could have hidden when Finnvari came back, and she’d seen Dwalin before in the guard. Certainly, Bilba had not spoken much about her time with the Company, and she regretted it now more than ever. Still, she could only hope that Raven knew enough about them to recognize Dwalin and to stay safe. As long as Bilba truly believed that Raven would be safe, she knew that she should be able to find free herself and then either to find Raven herself or to beg Dwalin to use his considerable resources to find her daughter.

“So then we finish our mission?” Nyrin asked, bringing Bilba’s attention back to the present. If Bilba was correct in her suspicions, then she could have sworn that he sounded almost hesitant when it came to completing said mission. Whatever their plans were then, it couldn’t bode well for her if Nyrin sounded hesitant. What she could potentially count on, however, was Nyrin’s sympathy, she simply had to play it right; or at least that was what she hoped.

“Of course.” Finnvari on the otherhand sounded unaffected at the prospect of carrying out whatever task they had been appointed.

“She doesn’t seem like an _ûdar_.” Nyrin said, almost hesitantly, and Bilba frowned inwardly. She hadn’t actually learned Khuzdul. Sure, she knew some swears, but they had become a common part of conversation around the camp and sharing their meanings with her had been a bit of a grey area. None of the Company members truly objected, at least not once she was seen as a family member. When I came to giving her a full education, however, there was more hesitation. _It wasn’t_ , Bilba thought, _that they didn’t trust me, at least not then, but rather the tradition that they’d be breaking if they taught me._ The secret language of the dwarrow ultimately had been the only true secret left between them, or at least that was until Bilba realized her pregnancy and subsequently fled. Thorin had privately promised that he would teach her, that he would allow it as King, when he had promised her a forever after future, but then the arkenstone and battle had happened and Bilba’s skills had never progressed beyond the more common curses.

“That’s because she’s enchanting you as well!” Finnvari snapped, pushing himself abruptly to his feet to pace. “I should never have left you alone with her, you are too weak-minded. I don’t understand what my cousin even sees in you, of all the dwarrow that she could have, you are of a lesser bloodline and apparently of weak mind as well.” 

“My bloodline is equal to that of any of Ria’s other suitors and I am not weak of mind. I simply am stating things as I understand them. Perhaps your Lord Father did not truly understand-“ Nyrin began just as hotly.

“I would not finish that _suggestion_ if I were you.” Finnvari growled lowly. Nyrin let out a low string of curses in response, and Bilba stilled as they parted. She doubted that they would speak more about what might happen, but she didn’t want them to know that she was awake either.

On the other side of the camp, Finnvari and Nyrin both set out their bedrolls, and silently Nyrin assumed a watch. In spite of her earlier promise not to run for Raven’s sake, they weren’t taking chances. Through her eyelashes, Bilba regarded the camp and tried, in vin, to come up with an escape idea. Nyrin was awake, he would see if she even moved and, even if she could get the ring on, to get back in any decent time she’d need to steal a pony and even invisible, she was still tied up. _No,_ Bilba decided, _it would be more fruitful for me to wait until they dropped their guard even more._

Bilba stayed awake for a long while afterwards, wishing that Nyrin would drift off to sleep or even go to relieve himself, but he never did. Instead, Bilba fell asleep first. Her rest, however, was not peaceful and she was plagued by dreams filled with Raven calling out to her for help with increasing desperation.

 

* * *

 

 

In the morning, Bilba woke to a hard boot pressing into her side. She blinked up into Finnvari’s grim face.

“Wake up.” the dwarf demanded, tossing a third of a loaf of bread at her. She sat up, her body aching after sleeping on the hard ground. It had been years since she’d travelled with the Company and slept on anything aside from a bed. At home, her bed might not be anything special or even that comfortable, but it didn’t take much to be better than the bare earth. Bilba did feel lucky that Nyrin hadn’t reclaimed his cloak because at least she wasn’t unbearably cold. Wrapping herself in the cloak’s damp weight, she silently consumed her ration of bread.

Bilba’s day was considerably less pleasant than the day before. She had been attached to Finnvari’s mount, rather than Nyrin’s. Previously, Bilba would have qualified Nyrin as a reluctant conversationalist, Finnvari, however, made him seem downright friendly. He successfully intimidated her, making the day feel very long as he glowered at the back of her skull, and swore at her in Khuzdul whenever she felt brave enough to speak to him. In the evening Finnvari finally left to bathe himself, and Bilba didn’t hesitate to begin her questioning anew.

“Why do you care about me? I’m just a simple hobbit, I’ve done nothing wrong-“ Bilba began to wheedle.

"Done nothing wrong?" Finnvari sneered, glaring over at her. "If you've done nothing wrong then I'll eat my beard. You're the halfling whore who bewitched our King into denying his true subjects are entitled to." Bilba winced. Apparently whatever headway she’d made the day before was gone. “I’ll be damned before I allow you to bewitch me as well.” Nyrin clearly gave more credit to Finnvari and his mutterings than to either her words or his previous concerns.

“Where are we going?” Bilba asked softly as Nyrin continued to stomp around the campsite, deciding that it was better to at least try than to simply accept that the little sympathy that she’d evoked from Nyrin the night before was gone. Nyrin had been clearly sympathetic to Bilba’s cause and she hoped that she would be able to use that to her benefit. 

“Do you ever stop asking questions?” Nyrin demanded irritably.

“When I get answers.” Bilba shrugged. “If you were in my place, would you be quick to give up on trying to find out where your captors were taking you?” Bilba glared at the and the dwarf glared right back at her. _Clearly_ , she mused, _they had underestimated my tenacity._ Bilba was privately hoping that they would continue to make the same mistakes because that would make her escape that much easier.

“I can’t answer your questions. If you want to know about the plan, you’ll have to ask Finnvari, he’s in charge.” Nyrin finally said, and Bilba paused before nodding. She’d never questioned if Finnvari was in charge, that much had been obvious from the beginning, but she’d be lying if she wasn’t hoping that Nyrin had at least been aware of the plan.

“This is the farthest I’ve been from my smial since my first adventure.” Bilba spoke without knowing exactly where she was going with the topic. All that she knew was that Nyrin was finally opening up to her again, and she didn’t want to risk silence closing him off to her again. “When Raven was younger, I dreamed about taking her away from that little farm, about giving her a better life. She was always a good child, she should have had better, but I never knew where to take her. We should at least have travelled, perhaps, but I had to work on the farm to put food on our table. The only time that we weren’t needed to tend the crops and fields was in the winter, and then it was too dangerous to risk travelling with a child.” Nyrin didn’t respond to her words, but she thought that he was listening. Or, at least, she hoped that he was. She thought by the way that he moved around the camp that he might be, but she didn’t dare give him enough time to really think about it or to allow the threat of Finnvari’s wrath to get to him.

“Have you traveled much?” Bilba asked tentatively, remembering how reluctant Nyrin had been before to answer questions about his private life, but determined to try to deepen their connection.

“Enough.” his one-word reply made her nervous, but it was still an answer so she didn’t dare give up.

“Are you from Erebor?” she queried.

“I’ve lived my whole life in the Blue Mountains.” Nyrin replied shortly, and Bilba wasn’t sure if that meant that he was or wasn’t from Erebor.

“Do you wish to go East?” Bilba tried again, and Nyrin laughed coldly.

“Like you haven’t orchestrated the whole thing.” he scoffed.

“What do you mean?” Bilba frowned.

“Erebor was supposed to be our glory, the return of dwarrow to greatness, but you took that from us, you destroyed our futures when you seduced our king!” Nyrin spun on her, stomping closer, and Bilba did her best not to flinch, though she suspected that he could still tell how much he intimidated her. 

“Seduced Thorin? Why would our relationship have anything to do with any of this?” Bilba demanded, her own temper flaring.

“Because our King is not the same one who left. He would never have chosen _those_ lower dwarrow to be lords, he would have chosen those whose loyalty to his crown can be accounted for going back generations. Whatever dregs he brought with him on the quest, they were not to be rewarded, not the way that he promised, he only needed them short-term and a few hundred gold coins would have satisfied them, but he actually went and rewarded them as though they were truly worth something and don’t even let me get started on his dedication to you, his halfling queen,” Nyrin sneered. “Dwarrowdams have been shamed time and time again by their King’s refusal, their families gave them the best that they could, education, fine jewels, training to be queens but he will look at not one of them, devoted instead to _you_. There’s only one way that he could have changed so dramatically: if you were capable of bewitching him.”

“Nyrin!” Neither Bilba nor Nyrin had noticed Finnvari returning, wringing the water from his beard. His face, however, was pale with anger, and Nyrin’s own flushed expression faded as he registered his companion’s presence. “What did I say about speaking to her?” Finnvari stalked over to where Nyrin was, pulling him a good distance away as he glared at Bilba. “She’ll enchant you same as the King, and you’ll be no good to my Sire nor will I dare let you anywhere near mine cousin.” Finnvari threatened, lowering his voice, as he was apparently unaware of how sharp Bilba’s hearing was. Nyrin looked even paler, if that was possible, and nodded.

“Forgive me, she caused me to lose my temper.” Nyrin said, bowing slightly to Finnvari.

“See that it doesn’t happen again. I need to rest, then I’ll ride ahead to make contact in the village. Don’t bring her near it, I don’t want any Breelander to start a rumour that we have kidnapped a halfling.” Finnvari continued, lowering his voice even more. Nyrin nodded, scowling at Bilba. She blinked back at him with what she hoped would be an innocent expression until he turned away. 

Inwardly, Bilba’s musings shifted, considering the dwarrow’s contact and trying to scheme how she might be able to get free to seek help from the townspeople. She knew that Rangers frequented the town, if she was lucky one of them would be there, and even if not then hopefully she could at least find a way to leave a message for one of her friends in case of her recapture. Surely, then, at least Raven would be safe and someone would be able to help her, assuming that Bilba’s own flight to freedom did not last. Without help, Bilba knew better than to assume that she’d be able to elude recapture, at least not when the dwarrow had ponies, weapons, and more experience. Her ring, she supposed, would help her, but she didn’t have supplies and without a pony it would take her days to get back to the smial. If she escaped she’d have to take a pony, hopefully with its saddle bags, so that she’d also have provisions. The ring wouldn’t be able to hide the pony and, privately, Bilba had begun to notice that she became short-tempered after using it. _No,_ Bilba decided, _if at all possible, I’ll try to avoid using the ring and I’ll take a saddled pony._

The dwarrow had not given Bilba a ration of bread, nor was she brave enough to ask for one after their altercation. Instead, she curled up, wrapping Nyrin’s cloak about herself as she tried to sleep. It worked with mild success, but when Finnvari left before dawn the next day, Bilba woke and was unable to get back to sleep. He took his pony and disappeared down the road at a ferocious gallop. With a contact in Bree, clearly Bilba’s captors were trading her off, but she had no idea who said acquaintance might be or what they might do to her.

Across the camp, Nyrin emerged from his bedroll. She watched him silently as he struck camp and glared as he lifted her onto their shared pony. Finnvari’s departure had, apparently, woken him as well, and there was no point to staying without him. The day remained grey, and the rain started again. Bilba, who felt as though she’d only just gotten dry hated the feeling of the water soaking through her clothing again, but could do nothing about it, not even cover her head with the hood of her cloak. 

When the rain failed to let up, Nyrin headed for the rocky foothills, guiding the pony off of the road. Bilba sat sedately on the pony. For the last few days they had stayed true to the road, camping at its side, but never really leaving it. Glancing along the road, however, she could see smoke rising from around the a low hill. Clearly, they were close to the village, and as Nyrin steered them away from it Bilba felt as though she was watching her last hopes of escape vanish.

All day Bilba hadn't dared to talk to Nyrin. After his outburst the day before although she was tempted to speak to him, she didn’t dare push him too far. She had tried before because she thought he could be swayed from Finnvari's side, however, judging by the exchange about Finnvari's cousin, Bilba suspected that swaying Nyrin was not so simple.

They stopped for the night, a good distance from the road and, as the rain continued, Nyrin tried to start a fire. Bilba sat and silently contemplated a new plan. If she could not sway Nyrin to her side, and he did appear loyal to Finnvari’s cousin, then she would have to try to just make a run for it. She did not, however, have long to ponder her decision. Nyrin had finally begun a fire, Bilba though it was mostly thanks to the rain finally stopping, but the smoke billowed thick and black into darkening night air. Bilba thought that she heard something, the snap of a twig in the brush behind her and she turned to look into the shadows but, before she could raise the alarm, an arrow whistled out of the bush. It didn't hit ether of them, flying harmlessly over the fire between Nyrin and Bilba, but they both froze. _A warning shot_ , Bilba realized in horror. The figures that emerged en masse in the twilight made her feel all the more anxious.

The last time that Bilba had seen orcs had been during the Battle of Five Armies. Certainly, these were not so fearsome as Azog, but none could truly rival the terror that the Pale Orc evoked. Bilba was not normally afraid, however, he had developed such a vendetta against her dwarrow and it would have been foolish not to fear that kind of wrath. In spite of her logic, however, Bilba felt a flash of fear. These orcs had not yet killed them, but that meant little. She'd seen before how bad their aim could be so, perhaps, it hadn't been a warning shot after all. Nyrin was not quite as stunned as Bilba. With a cry he leapt to his feat, the axes from his back held at the ready in his hands. Bilba might be a prisoner and perhaps he was not fighting to protect her, but at least he was fighting the orcs. Two fell to his twin axe blades before he made his way to her. He dropped a knife in her direction, and she lunged for it, not hesitating to maneuver the blade so that it was wedged between her knees. Bilba worked frantically to sever her bonds, and when she had finally succeeded she saw that Nyrin was indeed covering her.

"Run!" he shouted, apparently frustrated as Bilba hesitated. They were not friends exactly, but it went against Bilba's instincts to leave him behind. When the bushes rustled, however, releasing even more orcs Bilba scrambled to her feet, knife clutched in her hands as she ran for it. The orcs followed her, and she ran, zig-zagging around boulders as she headed for the woods, ducking under searching fingers and between rushing bodies. She slid a hand into her pocket as she fled the campsite, and not caring of the eyes on her, slid the ring on. She hadn't wanted to use it, but this wasn’t just about escaping stealthily and making headway, it was a matter of life or death by orc.

As Bilba felt the cold magic of the ring slide over her she felt a flare of pain. She tripped, falling and crawling as best as she could. It was a gut instinct, to keep moving, fearing that if she stayed where she’d be injured then she would be found out. Bilba had never been shot before, injured, but never so badly. The arrow protruded from her shoulder and she bit back her scream of agony, praying that her invisibility would protect her from discovery. As she curled in on herself, stuffing a hand into her mouth to prevent sounds of agony from escaping her, she risked a glance back at the camp. While she had fled and been injured, Nyrin had been overwhelmed and disarmed. He knelt in the middle of the camp. 

Their fire had been trampled and there was little light in the clearing as the leader of the orcs emerged. He was large, almost the same size as Bolg, if not quite so pale nor scarred. His minions watched him in silence as he took in the sight of Nyrin with a grimace of obvious distaste.

"Where are the second dwarf and the halfling?" he demanded and Bilba's stomach plummeted. The only hope that she had destroyed as she realized that the attack was not one of pure chance. In the clearing, Bilba strained, trying to take in Nyrin’s expression. She wasn’t completely certain, but she thought that he appeared equally surprised. He might be working with Finnvari and his sire, but he had fought the orcs and let Bilba free to escape, acting as though they were enemies, not allies. 

"I don't answer to orc filth." Nyrin spat, glaring up at the orc, who withdrew a dark blade, placing it against the dwarf's neck.

"I don't care what you believe. I was promised the halfling, so where is it?” Bilba saw Nyrin wince against the pressure of the blade, but could not do anything to interfere what with the pain that continued to ripple through her shoulder.

"Stop!" Bilba froze before remembering that she was still invisible. There was the sound of pounding hooves, and she registered as Finnvari galloped back into the camp. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded coldly, glaring down at Nyrin while the orcs growled and spat low curses in the black speech.

“You’ve sided with _them_?” Nyrin glared right back at Finnvari before switching into Khuzdul. Nyrin ranted, and Bilba felt her heart swell for the dwarf, who was so obviously upset over his companion’s unwholesome alliance. Finnvari, however, was not a dwarf to be pushed. In a single fluid motion he had swung down from his pony and marched towards Nyrin.

“And that’s why the halfling is gone?” he growled and Bilba winced. Nyrin glared defiantly up at Finnvari.

“Ria would never accept this alliance!” Nyrin cried out desperately as Finnvari approached him, withdrawing a knife.

“She not only knew, she planned it. Now I’ll never allow you into our family, you are a coward who would have done better to crawl to Thorin than to ever try to take his place with the truly noble houses.” Finnvari fisted Nyrin’s beard, and the knife flashed. 

Bilba watched in pained silence as the golden blonde hair fell to the ground. Finnvari was none too gentle as he continued to sever the hair before he pressed the blade to Nyrin’s chin to shave the last vestiges of hair from his cheeks. Only when he was done with the dwarf’s beard did he turn and repeat the process with Nyrin’s scalp. Nryin didn’t fight, though his eyes welled with tears. Vaguely, Bilba recalled that being shaved, and even cutting one’s hair, was a symbol of great shame amongst the dwarrow. It was because of the importance of hair for the dwarrow that Bilba had not dared to tell her dwarrow about how she had cut her own hair in order to assume the identity of Bilbo Baggins. Dwalin had known, had been the only one to see her before, and he had been outraged, she did not dare to face all thirteen of them in such a state, especially not when she failed to understand the importance of hair. Watching Finnvari shave Nyrin, however, she began to understand its importance. The dwarf looked so much smaller, so much less regal without his long golden tresses, though it was the way that his shoulders slumped in shame, his cheeks and scalp trickling red from small cuts that Bilba truly understood the significance of Finnvari’s cruel treatment. 

“If this is what your family will do for power then it is a good thing I’ll never marry your cousin.” Nyrin spat, though his voice was heavy with grief as Finnvari stepped back. He tensed at Nyrin’s words, but said nothing, looking instead to the orcs.

“I’ll find the halfling.” he declared, going to his pony. “The traitor’s life is yours to do with as you like.” 

Bilba wanted to look away, told herself to look away, but as the leader of the orcs stepped forward, she found her gaze riveted to her friendlier dwarf captor, feeling as though she’d never really understood Nyrin and knowing in her heart that he did not truly deserve this fate. It was not a swift death, and Nyrin’s screams echoed in the night as Bilba clenched her fists. 

 

* * *

 

 

When Nyrin finally fell silent, Bilba heaved into the dirt beside her. Finnvari had headed for the road, and with the orcs distracted, she stumbled to her feet. She could not reach the arrow in her shoulder, not well enough to remove it, and so she stumbled back towards the road. She was still invisible and she had better hearing than Finnvari. She hoped then, that she could seek help before he could catch her.

Bilba wandered along the edge of the road, not fully daring to venture on to it. As she walked, however, she felt her head begin to spin. It was a different spin, however, from the headache that she’d grown accustomed to on the road. _The arrow_ , she realized, remembering how pale Kíli had gotten in Laketown after being shot with a poisoned arrow. Perhaps the orcs had not wanted to kill her, but she’d become invisible, and then they’d been thinking only to protect themselves and their secret. In the grand scheme of things too what was the life of one little halfling? 

Bilba recognized the dark taint to her thoughts, and pulled at the ring on her finger. She hated the thought of being exposed, of being visible, but it felt as though the magic was leaching from her own energy, and she dared not leave it as it was. _Better_ , she thought, _to be found than to die invisible._ As her feet stumbled, she realized that it was not the first time that she’d faced just such a dilemma. _I’ve got to stop making a habit of this,_ she scolded herself before she fell face-forward into the mud.

The last thing that Bilba heard were concerned voices mingling as figures stood apparently over her. She screamed weakly in pain when someone took hold of the arrow, withdrawing it with practiced motions. She was soothed, as best as her rescuers could, and then gentle hands lifted her onto a horse.

“ _Le ab-dollen,_ Estel.” Bilba murmured and thought she heard a soft laugh, before she succumbed to a fevered sleep. 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

_* ûdar=_ Wizard in Khuzdul 

**If anyone is better at translations, please feel free to message me :) I’m just guessing for now :) 

 

 

 


	7. six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven meets a new potential ally.

**AN:** So sorry for how late this update is! Moving back home and catching up with friends and family made writing hard, but hoping to be better in the future! Thanks to everyone who read, left kudos, bookmarked, and especially those of you who commented :D Hope that you enjoy the update! Please let me know what you think :) 

* * *

_six_

Raven

* * *

 

_**Buckland, by the Old Forest** _

_**mid-September 2958** _

Raven glared at the dwarf seated across the fire from her and he glared right back. Neither spoke, not since they'd entered into this strange impasse, all they did was glare at each other. Silently, Raven cursed him from booted foot to bald head, but outwardly she refused to let any of her emotions show. It might have gone on for longer, but Raven's stomach growled and dwarf finally cursed out loud. Since he had picked her up earlier in the day from the side of the road he'd been trying desperately to get her to talk to him. After thoroughly grilling him, she still refused and neither his suggestions of peace, bribes, or threats could get her to speak.

"You'll do neither of us any good sitting and glaring until you starve yourself to death." the dwarf grumbled as he finally got to his feet. He tossed something at her, and reflex caused Raven to catch it. He nodded appreciatively as she snagged the chunk of bread from the air. "Are you going to stop glaring and scheming to run long enough for me to make us some real supper or are we going to keep sitting here?" Raven would never admit that her shoulders drooped, no matter what stories might be told in the future.

The dwarf took her silence as agreement and stood, heading for the ram tied to the tree. She had tried to run before, that hadn't encouraged him to trust her. She'd been frightened though. He had introduced himself, but she didn't know if she should trust him, and he'd turned them around, going back towards the Shire rather than after Bilba. When he had caught her, she'd finally caved, desperate to get Bilba help rather than to let her get farther away. The dwarf had sent his dwarrow, half a dozen of them, in the direction that Raven had been going. They were to track her, and he said that he'd take her home. Raven didn't approve of going home. She wanted to go after Bilba, the dwarf just didn't believe that she was capable. Raven would prove him wrong, though, she was determined to.

As the dwarf walked, he rubbed absent-mindedly at his jaw, and Raven felt a little guilty knowing that she was the cause of his discomfort. "I'm sorry." she mumbled before she had a chance to think about it. The dwarf paused and glanced back at her.

"For what?" he growled and Raven motioned to her own jaw. The dwarf dropped his hand, almost as though he hadn't realized he had been prodding at the injury.

"It's nothing." he assured her gruffly.

"Uh-huh." Raven replied, resisting the urge to roll her eyes; barely.

"Took me by surprise is all. You're sure you haven't had any training?" he looked back around at her and Raven shrugged. It had been a good hit, when he'd grabbed her earlier after her first escape attempt, she'd hit him hard in the jaw, he'd let go of her and she'd run again, but he recovered fast to her disappointment and hadn't dropped his guard around her again.

"I can hunt." he raised a scruffy eyebrow at her in obvious skepticism. "You know, use a knife and a sling and Ma was teaching me to use a bow too."

"Your  _amad_  never knew how to use a bow, could barely even use that letter opener." the dwarf gestured to where Raven wore Sting on her belt. Raven had admitted that Bilba was her mother, the dwarf already seemed to know, but Raven had been reluctant at first to make the actual confession. When she finally had, he'd had the nerve to chuckle at her and reply that he knew and his dwarrow were off to rescue their queen. Raven hadn't responded to that. She didn't know what to say.

"But you could train me, couldn't you?" Raven asked in a would-be innocent tone, unable to help her curiosity. She had always wanted to learn how to fight, and if she was going to be stuck with this dwarrow then the prospect of learning to fight wasn't horrendous. The dwarf glared at her before giving a curt nod.

"I could make you a bonny fighter, aye." he agreed.

"So teach me while we go and find my Ma." Raven demanded and he cursed in his own language, or at least Raven assumed that it was a curse.

"I'm not taking a weeun like yourself into danger, especially not if you are anything like either of your parents. Both of them attract evil like light draws moths. We're going back to the Shire and my men will find your  _amad_  and bring her home safe and sound." the dwarf replied and Raven glared.

Although they'd diverged, it was this exact conversation that had been going on since Raven and the dwarf had met. When he had first come upon Raven she had been too tired and miserable from her two nights and three days of wandering in the cold rain to flee. He had managed both to introduced himself as Dwalin son of Fundin and to appoint himself her guardian. Raven wasn't sure that he was actually Bilba's friend or, even if he was who he claimed to be, if he could be trusted.

Raven's concern stemmed from the fact that she was fairly certain that Bilba herself had been kidnapped by dwarrow. At least that was Raven's suspicion though she dared not say anything to this dwarf, at least not yet because what would happen if he found out that she knew?

The dwarf had appeared the dawn after Bilba had been kidnapped. He had looked around the smial, and Raven luckily had already been up and searching for Bilba when she heard him. She had hidden and watched as he searched the house and farm for her. He had loudly promised not to hurt Raven, that she could be with Bilba again, but Raven had been too suspicious to agree and eventually the dwarf had turned and ridden away on his pony. Make no mistake, Raven wanted to see Bilba, to be back with her, but not at the cost of becoming a prisoner too. She knew better than that, Bilba had warned her for long enough about the dangers of being forced to do anything. Instead, Raven had run back to the smial, dressed in Bilba's mail, belted Sting to her waist, and taken her sling and dagger. She'd hurriedly packed a little bag of supplies, and rushed out the door.

Dwalin had accosted her on the road on the third day since since Bilba had been taken. After the unfamiliar dwarf had left the smial, apparently believing Raven to be gone, she had dressed in Bilba's mithril, donned Sting, taken her slingshot and knife and headed after him. His pony was shod, luckily, and its hooves dug deep into the soft earth. She had followed the trail, not daring to pause for rest for fear that the clouds would empty their contents and obliterate the already faint trail. It was only after the rain had eventually started that Raven realized she had not packed nearly enough provisions and, most unfortunately, had forgotten a cloak. That was how Dwalin had found her: miserable and alone. In spite of his much needed assistance, however, Raven remained suspicious of him.

 

* * *

 

"-wandering off," Raven blinked back to the present to find the dwarf, supposedly Dwalin, standing over her.

"Well?" his gruff demand made her scramble to her feet. "I didn't think you'd fancy a cold supper either." he grumbled before heading into the woods. He turned his back to Raven and, for a moment, she hoped that she might be able to jump him but, then reality set in. He was an experienced warrior. Moreover, she had no way of knowing that he wasn't the real Dwalin and, if he was, then she would have lost her best bet at finding Bilba. At present Raven and Bilba would, apparently, be welcomed into dwarrow society, according to the wizard but, if she attacked Dwalin, then she worried that their welcome might change.

"Are you going to help find firewood or just keep staring?" Dwalin demanded gruffly. Raven glared at him but bent nevertheless, beginning and gather her own wood.

"Won't a fire attract too much attention?" she asked.

"No attention that I can't handle. You'll be safe with me, I'd never let anything hurt you and there's not much that can get past me either." Dwalin replied, and although Raven thought that he expected more questions, she chose to stay silent. She'd never really had a protector before. Bilba had promised Raven that things would be alright; she'd never asserted that she'd be able to fight for Raven before.

Raven fell into silent thought as they finished gathering the firewood. The dwarf had introduced himself as Dwalin, he was bald, and she had seen him with her cousin Fíli and his mother on the road. It was enough evidence for Raven to believe that he was the Dwalin, her mother's friend, but she simply couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't quite right. Surely, if he was who he said he was he should be trusted, Raven reasoned but, the pit of trepidation in her stomach refused to go away.

Dwalin didn't intrude or force her to talk, merely taking her silence in stride. They returned to the campsite shortly afterwards. It had not been hard to find wood. Unfortunately, however, they only had damp wood at their disposal. The dwarf bent over his attempt at a fire, but when he failed to make anything happen Raven crept closer.

"I don't suppose that you're any better at this?" he growled, impatient with his lack of success as he spotted her.

Raven shrugged mutely, but when he let her come closer she cautiously took the flint from his hand. She scrutinized his little fire. If the kindling had been dry it probably would have caught, but Raven had years of practice and knowledge from watching Bilba and Primula start fire even under the worst wood conditions. When the flames sprung to life she leaned back, unabashedly proud of her success.

"Now how did you manage that?" Dwalin gaped at the little fire and then looked back at Raven. She shrugged again, though this time it was with more than a little smugness.

"We had to eat and stay warm, even if the wood was wet before." she reasoned softly before retreating.

"I'll heat the food and then we'll eat. Are you warm enough?" he headed for his saddlebags and Raven nodded absent mindedly.

When Dwalin had first stopped, he had immediately taken in her wet cold figure and wrapped her in his own cloak. It was heavy, warm, and best of all, had an oily layer on the outside to repel the water and keep it from soaking through. As Dwalin enquired, Raven found herself burrowing further into its warmth as she held her chilled hands close to the little flames. Dwalin was fast to return with sausages, bread, cheese, and a water skin. He handed Raven the water and she gulped greedily at it before remembering both her manners and the fact that it might be all that they had.

"I've more." Dwalin seemed to sense her concern and silently she raised it back to her lips; draining the flask.

Next, he handed her a hunk of bread. He had fed her some of it earlier, when he had first picked her up. She revelled in the taste of the bread, it was a little stale, but it still tasted good and Raven rarely got the chance to have bread at the smial because of the scarcity of flour. The cheese was even more of an extravagance, and she savoured the portion that Dwalin gave her while he tended to the sausages. When they were warm, he skewered three on a stick and passed them to her, she bit into the hot meat of the first sausage with unadulterated rapture. It had been too long since she'd had meat; to be honest she couldn't even remember when she'd last eaten it. Across the fire, Dwalin wolfed down his own two sausages. Raven ate her second with gusto. While cooking, he had saved himself a portion of bread and cheese, eating as he prepared the sausages. Raven couldn't believe that he had so much food while traveling, let alone that he was so free with it. She knew that most families had food a plenty, but she'd never actually experienced a wealth of food before and it was therefore hard for her to believe that food wasn't such a commodity for everyone.

"Thank you Mister Dwalin." she murmured, her belly full to bursting as she pushed the last sausage towards him.

"You can finish it." he offered without any hesitation.

"I can't." she replied, gently patting her distended belly. He eyed the sausage almost critically before he wrapped it up.

"It'll be here for when you're hungry again then." he told her and she frowned. He had eaten two, and she had already had her own two, surely he should have the last one. "I don't want any more arguing. You're a growing lass and you need more meat on your bones anyways." Raven decided that it wasn't worth the energy to fight and raised her knees to her chest, curling her arms around her legs and curling in on herself.

"Do you think that they'll find her?" Raven asked timidly as she pulled Dwalin's cloak tighter around herself.

"I'm sure that they will." he replied at once. "And, I'll be there soon enough to join them in the search anyways." he added when she still frowned.

"But you said that I couldn't come." Raven rested her head on her knees.

"You'll be safe back at your hole." Dwalin nodded.

"But-" Raven began before flushing pink in embarrassment. She'd never really cared about her situation before but, for whatever unknown reason, disclosing their poverty and isolation to Dwalin simply struck her as wrong.

"But what?" he demanded.

"I don't want to be alone." Raven whispered.

"Didn't you say earlier that your Aunt Primula would be worried about you?" he asked, fixing her with a glare, and though she didn't actually feel threatened by him, Raven did feel a niggling of guilt.

Raven had lied about Primula waiting for her in the hopes that, if Dwalin was there to kidnap her, then he would think twice about it. As it had transpired, Dwalin wasn't there to kidnap her and instead was taking her back to said worried aunt. With a sigh, Raven confessed, "My aunt Primula, she's not actually at home. She left to tend her father over a fortnight ago."

"So you were alone at the hole?" Dwalin demanded.

"Smial." Raven corrected without thinking. "And, Ma was there," she added stubbornly.

"Until she was taken." Dwalin grumbled.

"Well then I was alone, but I was going to rescue her-"

"With a sword you can't use and no trail to follow. Right." Dwalin interrupted her.

"You're underestimating me." Raven frowned, and Dwalin glared at her.

"And you're overestimating yourself. You should have gone for help, not gone racing off into the wild. It's dangerous out here, you could've been killed, you might've simply died from exposure to the elements and a lack of supplies if I hadn't found you." Raven stayed silent. If she didn't know any better, she might think Dwalin was actually worried about her, but that was just too strange to admit. He was a battle-hardened warrior, she couldn't possibly have found his weak spot; she couldn't possibly be a cause of worry for him. She glanced back at him, but yes, she decided, it definitely seemed to be worry.

"What are you smiling at?" Raven ducked her head as she realized that she'd been caught smiling openly while he ranted.

"You're actually worried about me, aren't you?" Raven pressed softly and Dwalin's scowl deepened. "Why?"

"You may be fifteen, and a teen by hobbit standards but you're a mere weeun by dwarrow standards and a girl to boot so I'll tell you a prized secret. Dwarrow all protect children, especially their lassies. They're more important to our people than any amount of jewels or even gold." Dwalin's voice was sombre, and Raven listened with rapt attention. She had gotten a glimpse into Bilba's knowledge when Gandalf had come, but she was still so curious. Raven didn't beg Bilba for answers only because she thought that it would upset her and she didn't want Bilba to be unhappy. Grilling this dwarf, however, was another matter entirely and, so long as they were going to be stuck together, because Raven decided that he wasn't so bad, she was going to get her answers.

"So, you travelled with my Ma and Da on the Quest?" Dwalin blinked in surprise at Raven's apparently abrupt change in conversation topic.

"I did."

"And you were friends with both of them?"

"Aye."

"But until you met me, you thought that she was dead?"

"Aye."

"Why?" Dwalin eyed her, seeming to evaluate whether he thought she was capable of knowing the truth or not.

"It's not my place to say." Dwalin finally decided, and it was Raven's turn to scowl.

"Are you still my Ma's friend?" Dwalin frowned, apparently confused by her question.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you know my Da?" Raven changed subjects again.

She wanted to confide in this dwarf. She wasn't really sure how he'd earned her trust, all he'd done was give her food, and promised to protect her but he had. Dwalin had once been her Ma's friend and even though Raven was alone and scared, she still feared that he would disappoint her.

"I do."

"You know who he is?" Raven clarified.

"Of course I do, aye." Dwalin looked almost offended by her question.

"Would he ever want my Ma dead or even out of the picture?" The look of surprise and horror answered Raven's question before Dwalin could actually form the words to reply.

"You're too young to know what a One is, but one day you'll understand." Dwalin grumbled. "Your  _Adad_  loves your  _Amad_  more than his own life. He'd do anything to make her happy, to keep her safe, and now that you'll be in his life, to do the same for you." Raven watched Dwalin with a mixture of suspicion and curiosity.

"So he'd never try to hurt her?" Raven whispered, unable to keep meeting Dwalin's gaze.

"Never."

"And what happened between them before?" Raven knew that something had happened, Bilba had said that it was the fault of the Gold Sickness, but she was sure that there was more to it. Thorin had to have done something; Bilba just wouldn't tell her exactly what it was. Dwalin opened his mouth and closed it again. "It was the gold sickness that caused it, wasn't it?" Raven whispered.

"Aye, Lassie." Dwalin bit out the answer, as though it was painful for him to admit.

"Does he still have it?" Raven found herself whispering.

"No." Dwalin's voice was gruff, and when Raven searched his gaze for any hint of subterfuge, she found none.

Raven steeled herself, then confessed her suspicion, "I think it was dwarrow who took my Ma. She thought that my Da would take me, that she was still banished. You and Gandalf both say he'd protect her, so who was responsible then and why?" Dwalin's eyebrows knitted together in confusion and unveiled worry.

"The dwarrow, can you describe them?" he asked, his voice surprisingly calm. Raven shrugged, Dwalin settled down to wait.

"I only saw one," Raven began. She hadn't really gotten a good look at him, but she did her best to describe him. "Do you know him?" she asked when she'd finally finished.

"I don't." Dwalin admitted with a grumble.

"So how can you find him?" Raven asked and Dwalin levelled a glare in her direction.

"Just because I don't know him by description doesn't mean he won't be found. I have contacts and a reputation. My dwarrow are already tracking your  _Amad,_  I'll send word with his description and if we need to we'll have you sit with an artist who can draw him; a face will be recognizable amongst all the dwarrow societies. We'll find the dwarrow responsible for taking your  _Amad_ , she's my friend as well and I won't stop until she's brought back to you, nor will Thorin or any of the others stop until we have a result and we can be very determined when we want to be." Raven read the sincerity in his voice and expression and nodded.

"So can we go now then?" Raven asked and Dwalin sighed.

"No, I'm still taking you home first." Dwalin replied.

"But-" Raven began to protest.

"But I've sent word to the Blue Mountains, where your cousin Fíli and your aunt Dís currently are. They'll be on their way and they'll expect to find you safe and sound in the Shire, not off gallivanting with me in search of Bilba." Raven was silent.

"So you'll leave me then and go find my Ma?" Raven asked timidly.

"Aye, and I won't come back until I've found her. I promise you. I won't stop until I've succeeded." Dwalin promised, mistaking Raven's apprehension. They fell into silence, as Raven stared into their dying campfire. "We should take some rest, it's been a long day, and I'd like to make it back to the Shire before nightfall tomorrow." Raven's head jerked up in surprise at Dwalin's statement. She had been walking for three days. Raven eyed Dwalin's ram which stood tethered sedately to a tree at the edge of the clearing. It was certainly faster than the aging mare, Bunny, that Bilba owned but Raven still had trouble actually believing that they'd be back at the smial the next night. It seemed like a terribly long distance to travel in her opinion.

Silently, Raven lay down on the bare earth, curling her legs in towards her body so that her bare feet would be covered by the cloak. Her feet were colder and were more tender than Bilba and Primula's ever were, and she wished that she had thought to bring a pair of the woolen socks that Primula had bought her as a gift. A soft ball landed in front of Raven's face, and she started.

"For your feet." Dwalin said, and she blinked up at the warrior in surprise as she accepted the socks. It was not the first time that he had shown his gift of observance, but for some reason, it still took her by surprise.

"Thank you." Raven murmured and Dwalin nodded in a gruff acknowledgement as they both settled down to sleep. Raven tried as best as she could to rest, but even though she'd had precious little rest the past three nights since Bilba had been taken, she could not find rest.

"What's wrong?" Dwalin's gruff question made her freeze.

"It's nothing, I'm sorry." she whispered, somehow knowing that he would hear her.

"You don't toss and turn for nigh on a quarter of an hour over nothing." he replied.

"I'm scared." she finally whispered. Their campfire had gone out and she was thankful for the cover of darkness because he couldn't see her. It somehow made her confession seem less intimidating.

"I'll not let anything hurt you." he said, not sounding angry, to her relief.

"I know you wouldn't." Raven's cheeks warmed with a blush that he could not see. "I know that you'll fight for me." Raven bit her lip and silenced herself.

"Then what are you afraid of?"

"It's stupid. I'd be wasting your time. You need sleep too." Raven rolled over determinedly, turning her back on the direction where he lay; too embarrassed to actually say what was troubling her. She'd be nervous enough to confide in Bilba, this dwarf was all but a stranger to her so why should she trust him so readily?

"I'm not going to sleep until you have out with it and neither will you. I for one am also mighty tired so, unless you want to exhaust the both of us, you'd better start talking." Dwalin threatened. Unlike before, Raven suspected that he was actually serious, and took his warning to heart.

"Will they like me?" Raven whispered into the darkness in the general direction of the dwarf.

"Who?"

"My family," Raven's voice caught in her throat, leaving the question hanging.

"Of course they will, Lassie. You're a blessing to them." Dwalin replied.

"But I'm just a bastard dwobbit." Raven whispered into the night.

"Listen to me, Lassie. Bilba's survival is already a blessing to Thorin, to Fíli and Kíli and also to the rest of the Company, myself included, who swore to treat Bilba as their own kin. For Bilba to have a girl child, a female descendant of Durin? There will be feasts for days in your honour, you'll be the most sought-after lass in all the dwarven kingdoms. There hasn't been a princess since Dís, and she found her One." The shape that was Dwalin sat up, and then moved closer. "Girls are rare, Lassie, and for the noble bloodlines, such as the Durins, they are all but unheard of."

"But will they actually like me?" Raven found herself whispering. She was not a princess, she did not deserve to have feasts in her honour or to be argued over in some attempt to win favour. That simply wasn't who she was.

"I've known you less than a day, Lass, and I like you. I don't like many people. You have the Durin spirit and no little trace of your mother's compassion. They'll not only love you, they'll adore the very ground that you walk upon." Dwalin's face suddenly emerged from the darkness, and Raven startled, not having realized that he was quite so near. "Now, do you have any other fears that I can promise you are all in your head?" he asked.

"No." Raven whispered.

"I know you don't believe me, I can hear it in your voice, but you just wait and see, and you know what? It's a custom amongst dwarrow to place wagers so, I'll make one with you, your first. If I'm right and they love you then, I'll give you twenty gold pieces." Dwalin offered.

"But I thought that if you're right you're supposed to win money?" Raven protested.

"Well, technically yes, but this'll be a special wager, aye?" Dwalin replied abashedly and tentatively Raven nodded. "Good then, and now, let's get some rest." Dwalin laid back down, but this time he was closer to her and she smiled into the darkness. He might be in bad need a bath, but she thought she probably did too, and it was comforting after her nights spent alone to finally be close to someone again.

Raven had never slept alone, hadn't really ever been alone more than a few hours while checking her lines or on her way into town. She hadn't realized quite how lonely she'd been until Dwalin had taken her in. Having him with her also gave her a reassurance that she hadn't been aware she was missing. Raven closed her eyes, and although still nervous, finally let herself fall asleep.

 

* * *

 

The sun was just rising in the sky the next morning when Dwalin bundled her up onto the ram. She was still half asleep, and as he wrapped his arms around her she felt herself nodding back off to sleep. When she finally woke for good, the sun was high in the sky and her tummy was rumbling. Dwalin slowed his mount and they shared a cold breakfast of bread, cheese, and the sausage that Raven hadn't managed to eat the night before. Then, they got back into the saddle.

It wasn't that the saddle was uncomfortable or that the ram's gait was particularly hard to sit, but Raven's legs ached. She was unaccustomed to riding either so fast or far, but she dared not say anything. True to Dwalin's words from the day before, it did seem like they would make it back to the smial that night. They had crossed the Brandywine River already as the shadows lengthened and day turned to dusk. It was only when Dwalin missed the trailhead that Raven had to voice her correction.

"What do you mean, missed it?" he asked in confusion.

"Well, the smial, it's that way." Raven pointed back along the road towards the trail.

"But Bilba's house is that way, I'd swear to it.." Dwalin replied stubbornly.

"Bag End and Hobbiton are, but we live at the smial now." Raven explained patiently.

"Why? What was wrong with the other one?" Dwalin scowled, but turned the ram around nevertheless.

"Ma got kicked out when she was shunned." Raven admitted.

"Shunned? What's that mean? And why would that mean she got kicked out of her house?" Dwalin demanded, his accent growing thicker in his anger. Raven withheld a flinch, she didn't want to be on the receiving end of that ire. Dwalin might have growled at her before, but she'd known that it had been all growl and no bite; this time that wasn't the case.

"Well, she ran off unaccompanied with a group of male dwarrow and came back from the dead pregnant with a half-breed bastard daughter and unmarried," Raven trailed off, she wasn't making an accusation, but she worried that in his current wrath, Dwalin might take the insinuation as a personal insult to his honour. Instead, Dwalin reigned the ram to a halt and lifted Raven to spin her in the saddle so that she was facing him.

"We never did anything unreputable to your  _Amad_ , we protected her like she was our sister, save for your cousins and  _Adad_ , he loved her. He'll only love one person like he loves your  _Amad_. He can never take another as a partner, and we respect that. Our Company made sure they courted properly according to dwarven standards too, I'll have you know, and they were wed, so you're not a bastard either and anyone who dares call you that, well, they can come and speak to me in person." he vowed, and Raven looked up into his shaded blue eyes and nodded solemnly.

"We live in the smial though now, my Ma couldn't raise me in Hobbiton, she couldn't support us there. We grow our own food, and we trade a little with the rangers and-" Raven cut herself off. She didn't know much about why elves and dwarrow didn't like each other, but they didn't. "Rangers, though they don't come very often or very regularly either." Raven finished lamely in her opinion. Dwalin nodded along with her though, and didn't demand to know what she was going to add before so she felt relieved.

"Well then, we'd best be headed to the smial." Dwalin lifted her again, spinning her to face the front of the ram. He followed the game trail at an easy ground-eating pace, and before she knew it, they were emerging from the woods. The fields were overflowing like before and Raven frowned at the thought of the spoiled fruits and vegetables, they needed that food and she'd abandoned it. Then, her thoughts turned to the livestock. She'd let the chickens and the goat roam. They wouldn't go far; she and Bilba let them out sometimes during the day anyways, she just hoped that none had been attacked. Then, all thoughts about the farm's disarray were cleared from Raven's mind as she registered the pony in the yard and the figure emerging from the smial to run towards them. As she moved to get off of the ram, Dwalin helped her, and then Raven flung herself into her Aunt Primula's arms.


	8. seven

**AN:**  Thank you everyone for all of the kudos and bookmarks and especially for all of the comments! Here's the next chapter, please let me know what you think :)

* * *

  _seven_

Fíli

* * *

 

_**Blue Mountains** _

_**late-September 2958** _

It was raining. It made the halls in the Blue Mountains feel cold, damp, and borderline claustrophobic; even to Fíli who had been raised in similar dwellings.

"And this is the Great Receiving Hall-" Fíli tried to concentrate on their guide, a middle-aged dwarrwodam named Dagní. She was very beautiful by dwarrow standards, with a full chocolate brown beard that she had plaited skillfully. No doubt her kin hoped that she could finally attract the eye of the esteemed Crown Prince.

It wasn't exactly that Fíli found her unattractive, rather Dagní didn't spark interest in him. He'd seen both Thorin and Kíli fall for women who challenged them as much as they loved them, and that was what Fíli wanted. He craved an equal and all of the dwarrowdams paraded past him were merely there in service of their families; they would never challenge him, never defy him. He didn't want that in a life partner. He wanted his One, wherever she, or he, might be.

"It's like we've never seen the Blue Mountains before." Dís grumbled under her breath, and Fíli was glad for the thick beard that he had finally grown because it hid the smile that he couldn't stop in time.

" _Amad,_ " he warned equally softly and Dís shot him a glare while Dagní fixed the two royals with a hopeful smile. Fíli forced himself to smile back at her. She beamed, but continued to apparently wait for some response.

"I am actually feeling a little under the weather, so I'm afraid that will have to wait for another day, Fíli, will you escort me back to our rooms?" Dís said politely, though Fíli registered the disappointment in the dwarrowdam's face.

"Of course. Please, don't hesitate to call on me, your highnesses should you feel better and wish to finish the tour." Dagní dipped a low curtsy and while Dís nodded and then took Fíli's arm, pulling him away.

"That was not courteous." Fíli warned Dís, leaning in closer to his mother as they walked, so that none of the eagerly-listening ears could overhear their conversation.

"It was not discourteous either." Dís returned and Fíli smiled; trust his  _Amad_ to answer like a true Princess. It was during such times that Fíli wondered why the dwarrow didn't simply elect Dís as their queen because she certainly had a better way with words than either he or Thorin.

* * *

 

"So, why did you really insist on leaving?" Fíli asked as the doors closed behind them in their private rooms.

"Ábria, fetch us some tea?" Dís demanded, and Fíli watched as his mother's maid left the room.

"What's going on?" he demanded. Dís had always been careful, but she'd never been quite so sharp with Ábria. "And, while we're at it, don't think I haven't noticed that Dwalin's been missing all day. Do you know where he's gone?" Dís fixed him with a glare, waiting until Ábria's footsteps had faded from hearing.

"Ábria is the niece of the Lord Ímundur, I was not informed of the gravity of the situation here, you can understand why then I am less trustful of her." Dís finally spoke and Fíli nodded. He had never really given much consideration to Dís's handmaiden. She was pretty and quiet, the perfect lady's maid because she was so invisibly present.

"And do you believe that she is actively betraying us?" Fíli asked solemnly.

"I am afraid I don't know." Fíli frowned as he watched Dís take a seat. She never looked tired, her back was always unbowed, but clearly the issues in the Blue Mountains were weighing more heavily on her than even Fíli realized.

"What about Dwalin? Where has he gone and what are we saying to cover up his disappearance?" Fíli changed the subject.

"He's gone to the Shire. He's to seek out the lass we saw, to see if Bilba's there and then to send word." Dís explained, and Fíli found his own legs giving out from underneath him in shock.

"He-" Fíli paused, unable to form the words.

"He left last night." Dís replied stiffly.

"I see. And we will tell the others what?" Fíli asked.

"That he has gone at my order to secure a peaceful meeting with the hobbits concerning the growing of crops." Dís replied.

"I see." Fíli sighed. "And you were going to tell me about Dwalin and Ábria when?" Fíli asked, fixing Dís with a hard stare.

"I was hoping that you wouldn't have to know," Dís hedged and Fíli grumbled under his breath. He loved Dís, but sometimes she truly forgot that he wasn't her baby son anymore; he was a Crown Prince. "It was foolish, I know, I should have told you."

"Just don't do it again. We need to be united, especially here." Fíli stood. "You'll need to rest for the day, and I'll be in my room. Let me know as soon as Dwalin's raven arrives." Dís nodded and he left, his head spinning.

* * *

Fíli speared a sausage, driving his gold fork into the meat with a viciousness that he wished he could transfer onto the nobles with whom he'd been negotiating for the past four days. The time had crawled by with painful slowness as Fíli and Dís attended tours, teas, meetings, and dinner parties, speaking politely with royal after royal and feigning sympathy for their twisted cause.

"The sausage won't stop them, but breaking the cutlery would provide more than enough juicy gossip about the Crown Prince's temper for them for the next few days." Dís said calmly as she sliced delicately at her own breakfast.

"How can you stand this?" Fíli shoved his plate away in disgust while Dís took a perfectly sized bite, chewing slowly and delicately as though she was on display at the most important of state dinners.

"I stand it because we must. This is our job, as royals. We must keep the peace." Dís answered evenly.

"I don't mean that. I know how to handle the royals-"

"Do you?" Dís demanded softly and Fíli stopped.

"I-" Fíli began before falling silent. The truth was, he had become better at being patient, but he was not perfect. He was still learning and the burdens of being Crown Prince were no simple matter.

"You are young and new to politics. I can be as I am because I have lived a lifetime as a Princess. Thorin and I never wanted you or Kíli to be raised the way that we were. We wanted you to have a real childhood, but perhaps that was our mistake. We taught you as best as we could, we prepared you for a life as royalty in terms of education and fighting, but we could not prepare you for the actual rigors, nor the emotional toll. That you must learn with time, just like patience, with age, you will grow as I did." Dís explained, setting her golden silverware aside and picking up the gold-plated teacup instead. Fíli swallowed, and glared back at his plate of breakfast. "Eat up, we have a long day ahead of us-" Dís began as Fíli raised his glare from the uneaten food to her.

"Your Highness, there's a raven." Fíli' focus turned from Dís to the handmaiden, Ábria. Since Dís's warning Fíli had kept his eyes on the dwarrowdam. She seemed just as courteous as before, and he had to give her credit for her perseverance considering the fact that Dís had been less than courteous towards her.

"Thank you, Ábria." Fíli said when Dís held out her hand for the missive without speaking to Ábria.

"Yes, thank you." Dís said dismissively when Fíli shot her a pointed glare.

"You are dismissed. We'll send word when we're ready, but if you could let our morning appointments know that we'll be late, that would be much appreciated." Fíli added and, with a curtsy, Ábria saw herself out.

"Well?" Fíli rose from his seat, walking over to his mother's side as she broke the seal on the missive. She unrolled it, and he read silently over her shoulder:

_Found a little bunny's baby. Come at once. Bring supplies: food, clothing, medicine. Sent word to Mountain._

"I'm leaving. We need to be there. Dwalin never gives orders unless it's important." Fíli declared while Dís reread the message, her brow furrowing.

"What does this mean? A bunny?" Dís demanded.

"It's what the shape changer, Beorn, called Bilba. This way if anyone shot down the raven then it wouldn't lead directly back to her." Fíli explained with more patience than he realized he had, given the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"You'll need men, a wagon for the supplies, a healer. You can't just go running out the door." Dís said, stopping Fíli in his tracks. It was true, he had been halfway to the exit already, intending to order the fastest pony in the stable and ride immediately for the Shire.

"I'm leaving as soon as they can be found. I would advise against trying to stop me,  _Amad_." Fíli ordered.

"You think I will stop you?" Dís rose to her feet, ever the princess. "I'll make the necessary excuses for our absence here in the Blue Mountains, you gather the men and the supplies. We'll leave in an hour." Dís ordered and Fíli found himself automatically nodding.  _One day_ , he promised himself,  _I'll command that kind of automatic respect._

* * *

In the end, it took them nearly three hours before they gathered in the courtyard, a wagon in tow as well as nearly two dozen dwarrow, most of whom were warriors. Fíli had chosen dwarrow of Erebor who had travelled with him; all warriors he trusted. Amongst his selected cadre, however, Fíli had also chosen trackers and a healer. He had not been overly trusting in his selection as those particular dwarrow called the Blue Mountains home, but he needed them with him. Dwalin's note had not mentioned Bilba, only her daughter, no doubt the warrior would need back up to help him find Bilba and, as far as Fíli knew, healers were sworn to help those in need; regardless of their bloodline.

"Ready?" he asked, turning to where Dís was arranging herself on her dapple grey mare.

"When you are." Dís replied with a little smile. She wore simple travelling clothes in place of the silks, furs, and jewels that she had donned whilst they were the visiting dignitaries. Fíli smiled back at her, this was the Dís with whom he was familiar. Growing up she'd never looked poor, but neither had she ever been so heavily bejeweled. Even in Erebor, although their clothes were of fine make, they were never required to dress so fancily. They were royals and they were respected without the need for fine clothing.

"Move out!" Fíli heard himself order, spurring his pony into a ground-eating canter. He too was back in travelling clothing, and although it was finer than what he had worn on the Quest, it was still far less formal compared to the embroidered and bejeweled tunics that he had been forced into. Thundering down the road at the head of his Company, the wagon following as fast as it could, Fíli's mind turned to the reunion that he was facing. Even if Bilba wasn't there waiting, he had a young cousin who would, no doubt, be scared and alone. He had been Kíli's protector and, though his baby brother didn't need him anymore, his cousin did.

* * *

"You look happier than I've seen you since before Erebor." Dís told him that evening when they had been forced to stop and give their ponies rest and eat themselves.

"I have a baby cousin." Fíli turned, looking at Dís, and realizing how happy the knowledge made him.

"You were right earlier." He eyed her solemnly. "I do still need to grow, I need more patience when it comes to politics, and with time I will become a better Prince for our people. What I'm lacking, however, isn't the ability, it's the drive. I've always had someone else to fight for. First Kíli, then Thorin; I had to be strong to fight for them, but they don't need me to fight for their cause anymore. Thorin is loved as our King, Kíli is a capable warrior now and he has Tauriel. You and I, we're restless because we're the same, we need someone else to fight for, someone else to motivate us. Now, we're going to have Bilba's daughter, a new daughter of Durin to fight for, and her own  _amad_ , if Bilba will ever forgive me, and the Company, for how we've wronged her." Dís smiled back at Fíli.

"Aye. I believe that you might just be correct. We do need a new cause to fight for." They settled into silence, thinking about the changes that the future would bring for their family. They hadn't had a youngling in the family after all, not since Kíli, and both he and Dís had missed being able to baby his brother.

* * *

The dawn saw them mounted again and off as fast as they were able. The wagon had not caught up to them, but Fíli was sure that the two dwarrow in charge of bringing extra supplies were making the best time possible for them. He suspected though that it would take them at least a week to make it, assuming that the muddy roads didn't cause any additional problems. There was no helping it, however. They carried rations with them, and the extra would come but, they were going to the Shire, surely things had not changed so much that the hobbits were starving. Worry, however, still caused Fíli to dig his heels further into his mount's sides, eager to be done with the four day ride.

* * *

Fíli was in a horrible mood. It was late dusk on their fourth day. By all rights, they should already be at the hobbit hole, but when they'd thundered through Hobbiton up to the round green door burned in his memory they'd been turned away by a plump scowling hobbit.

"Bilba Baggins doesn't live here." he'd been told in reply to his asking after his friend.

"Where does she live then?" Fíli had rudely jammed the door open with a hand before the hobbit could close it on him.

"Why should I know where the halfling went? She and that bastard child brought nothing but shame to our good Baggins name. She left sixteen years ago with good riddance, now remove yourself from my property." Fíli had, in shock, allowed her to slam the door in his face.

"The nerve of her, hobbits are not a very courteous race after all." Dís had scowled.

"I can assure you that she is not the typical hobbit." Fíli replied, thinking of how friendly Bilba had always been and her talks about the manners of her kin.

"Or, perhaps, your burglar was more unique than you realized." Dís dismissed. "In either case, where do you suppose we start to search for her?" Fíli turned his pony, heading back down the hill.

"There's only one place. We go back to where you saw the child by the road. It's still about an hour's ride, we'll start the search from there." Fíli decided, preparing to spur his mount back into a canter.

"Begging your pardon, Mister Dwarf," he paused, looking down to the side where a pale-faced hobbit was looking up at him.

"Fíli, son of Víli at your service." Fíli introduced himself, bowing his head to the little hobbit and giving the fellow the needed time to collect himself.

"I'm Gaffer Gamgee at yours." the hobbit said, nervously plucking at his waistcoat. "I couldn't help but hear you asking after Ms. Bilba Baggins. I wasn't eavesdropping, mind you, but well, we don't usually have so many big folk around these parts, and Ms. Baggins was always kind to me when she was the Baggins Under the Hill-" Fíli waited as the hobbit rambled. He reminded Fíli a little of Bilba. Of course she had more nerves than this hobbit, but especially early on, he knew that it was a habit of hers to ramble when she was nervous.

"Of course, no offence is taken, Master Gamgee, and if you could give us any information about where Bilba and her daughter resettled it would be most appreciated." Fíli interrupted the poor hobbit who appeared to be rambling without control.

"You're not looking to hurt her, are you?" the hobbit suddenly frowned in worry, and Fíli sighed inwardly. "There were rumours you see, after she got back. Going off unmarried and barely of age with thirteen males after all and then coming back pregnant and unmarried, it's no wonder that folks were upset. Of course, Lobelia Sackville-Baggins is something else, didn't even let poor Miss Baggins' relation as the Thain's favourite granddaughter stop her from seeking shunning-" Fíli clenched his fists. Unknowingly, this hobbit was confirming fears that Fíli didn't even realize that he had. Bilba had not only been wronged by him and the Company, she had returned in shame to her people and been punished for her perceived transgressions.

"Mr. Gamgee, I am here to take full responsibility for Bilba and her daughter. They are kin to me, and I will protect and provide for them unto my dying breath. She saved our people, and is the cause for the glory of Erebor in the east, if you have heard tales of the Lonely Mountain and Dale's success. I intend to ensure that she is finally given the rest and protection that she deserves as a true hero so you have my word that I have nothing but the most sincere intentions for Bilba and her daughter." Fíli vowed and although Mr. Gamgee still looked mildly suspicious he sighed, his shoulders slumping a little.

"Well, I don't know exactly where they are, but rumors reach these parts that they're in an abandoned smial by the Old Forest. If you head to the Brandywine Bridge, there's a settlement there, you'd probably have better luck there learning where she is exactly. She was a good lass, a little wild perhaps, but respectable. She didn't deserve what's happened to her." Fíli nodded his head to Mr. Gamgee.

"Thank you, Mr. Gamgee for your help, it's been invaluable." Fíli said and then turned to Dís who, though fuming had luckily managed to keep her comments to herself. Fíli thanked Mahal for small favours, after all, he didn't have time to placate upset hobbits after Dís had corrected their misguided perceptions of Bilba, no matter how incorrect their conceptions might be.

"We don't stop until we've arrived." he announced. There was no argument, his Company who simply waited for him to take the lead. Fíli didn't hesitate to do so. He had a baby cousin to meet and a hobbit whose forgiveness he was growing less and less sure that he deserved.

* * *

It was pitch black by the time that they arrived at the spot where Dís said she'd seen the girl. It looked vaguely familiar to Fíli, however, not having seen the girl for himself he relied heavily on Dís's memory. Dís's memory, however, never failed to surprise Fíli. Privately he wondered, not for the first time, how much she had known about his and Kíli's shenanigans during their youth.

"Spread out, see if there is a trail or any other indication of where the girl was coming from or going to." Fíli ordered his trackers. The dwarrow nodded tiredly but did as he ordered, combing the woods.

"Fíli, son of Víli, Crown Prince of Erebor,"

"and Dís daughter of Thráin, Princess of Erebor,"

"We have been sent to welcome you to the North and show you to the smial which you seek." Fíli and the dwarrow froze at the appearance of two tall hooded figures. Of the same height and build, they were male and, when they lowered the hoods of their cloaks, Fíli felt himself tense as he realized that they were elves.

"We are Elladan,"

"and Elrohir, sons of Elrond,"

"the Lord of Imladris." they spoke once again in turn and, although they each introduced themselves, Fíli was already sure that he'd never know which was which because their features were identical.

"To Bilba's smial?" Fíli asked, too tired to offer any further pleasantries.

"Aye." one of the twins replied. Fíli glanced around, giving the order for his dwarrow to regroup and then nodded in the direction of the twins. Fíli led the way, following after the elves who directed them all to a narrow pathway.

"It would have saved us hours of travel if we'd known to come here in the first place and not been delayed by going into Hobbiton and listening to that drivel that they're spewing about my Queen-sister and niece." Dís snapped, and Fíli winced. He knew that tone of voice. Sometimes, Dís could be truly terrifying, and Fíli was very aware of the warning signs.

"We apologize, we were otherwise occupied until earlier today,"

"and until your healers arrived we did not dare leave Raven for long." the twins replied, and Fíli felt his chest tighten in concern.

"Raven, Bilba's daughter?" he asked, his throat tightening in anticipation of bad news.

"Indeed, she fell ill with a fever that refused to break,"

"She was lucky, friends of ours found Bilba and she sent us here to find and care for Raven until she herself is strong enough to return." the twins replied, and Fíli gritted his teeth. He and Kíli had spoken in turn time and time again, but for whatever reason hearing these elvish twins do it upset him.

"And Raven is healthy now?" Dís demanded.

At the same time, Fíli voiced his own inquiry. "What happened to Bilba?"

"Raven's fever broke and she has always been a strong child, she should recover quickly." one of the twins replied.

"As for Bilba, she was kidnapped and injured with a poisoned arrow. Our friends have brought her to our father, and the Lord Elrond will be able to heal her and, when she is strong enough, he will allow her to return." the second twin answered Fíli's question.

"A morgul arrow?" Fíli demanded.

"Aye. Unfortunately, we know nothing else about her attack. She was practically unconscious and only barely coherent when we crossed paths with her and our friends, away from the valley on patrol. We rode straight here to seek and protect Raven." the first twin responded.

"Kidnapped from the Shire by orcs and poisoned. You were not joking when you said that she draws trouble to her." Dís muttered under her breath.

"Just imagine pairing her with Thorin." Fíli replied with a wry smile.

"Well, I do like an interesting life." Dís said.

"And if you intend to be a part of Raven's life then I assure you, Princess Dís, you'll not have to look any further for interest." one of the sons interjected.

"Is she rebellious?" Fíli asked, unable to help his curiosity about his mysterious female cousin.

"Not exactly, but she has a fighting spirit that she gets both from her  _Nana_  and  _Ada_." one of twins laughed, the sound of his merriment ringing clearly through the night air.

"You have visited Bilba and Raven over the years?" Fíli inquired carefully, his mind spinning back to what they had learned in Hobbiton. He had been unable to shake his sense of guilt over what had happened.

"Bilba was expelled from her family home, her titles stripped of her by the hobbits whom she called kin. They no longer recognize that she's a part of their community to the point that they will no longer interact with her. That was why she has moved out here into the country." one of the twins replied solemnly as they kept pace with the ponies who walked slowly through the forest.

"Raven was raised with barely enough food on the table. We tried for years to convince Bilba to come with us to Imladris, visiting as often as we could, but she is a stubborn one. Once Bilba began her farm here and could put food on the table for Raven, it was set. Her cousin, Primula, lives with them too, helping on the farm and to raise Raven. Together, the three farm enough to support themselves. It brought Bilba great pride to be able to provide for them and not to depend on the pity, as she sees it, of anyone else." Fíli's stomach sank even lower as the second twin continued to answer.

"Bilba raised Raven to be a fighter because of the circumstances. She's a sweet girl, very energetic and intelligent. She studies hard and can hunt decently considering the circumstances. She is, however, also very sheltered living here with only Bilba and Primula. She longs for company and a larger world. She's always wanted to meet her family, she's been curious about you, but she also fears that you will reject her as the hobbits have. Moreover, she is fiercely protective of Bilba and you, Fíli son of Víli, whether intentionally or not, have gravely hurt Bilba Baggins." Fíli swallowed, nodding silently in agreement and acceptance in spite of the darkness that surrounded them.

"Does Bilba feel animosity towards us?" Fíli finally asked softly when he finally found his voice.

"Bilba Baggins' heart is too large for such hatred. She fears, however, that you will take Raven from her, and until recently she was not aware that Thorin had revoked her banishment." one of the twins answered carefully.

"She didn't know that she was pardoned-" Fíli trailed off, his voice dying as he realized the true repercussions of the statement. If Bilba didn't know that she was pardoned then she also wouldn't have known that they thought she was dead. "Did she think that we had turned away from her? That we abandoned her? She feared us coming back and stealing her daughter from her?" he asked hollowly.

"Aye." Fíli fell into a guilty silence. He had messed up. All of the guilt that he had felt before was growing with each piece of news.

* * *

Fíli was still lost in his own guilt when the trail left them at the edge of a clearing. Fíli navigated his pony around a large patch of vegetable plants, following the elves along a lightly worn path towards a hill with a round door, two covered windows, and two chimneys. Eyeing the set up, and aware both of the usual standards of hobbit holes and Bilba's pride at the pristine state of her own home, Fíli swallowed tightly. The door and shutters were shabby almost to the point of disrepair, and although the hole had two chimneys, they were close together, and also in some disrepair. In the yard, there were the burned remnants of a hen house and a sagging pen with an older looking pony, a goat, and a dwarrow riding ram. Fíli's attention turned to the smial door as it swung open and a familiar figure emerged.

"Good, you're here." Dwalin announced as Fíli swung down from his pony.

"Begin a camp." Fíli ordered his dwarrow tiredly as Dís also dismounted beside him.

"Where is Raven?" Dís asked as she strode towards Dwalin.

"Inside, resting-" he began before stopping as the smial opened again. Fíli glanced behind the warrior to see a small pale face illuminated in the doorway peering back at him.

Raven had the Durin black hair that the rest of his family shared as well as blue eyes identical to his uncle's. In spite of the clear links to her dwarrow heritage, however, as he studied her, he realized that her features were similar to Bilba's; petite and rounded as hobbits' were wont to be. The girl was tall, at least the same height as Bilba, if Fíli had to guess. In spite of her height, however, she still looked very young, she had no hints of facial hair, at least not yet, but her figure was clearly childish, and for an irrational moment he felt glad that she still looked like a child. A hobbit lass would be well on her way to adulthood at sixteen, as he understood, while a dwarrow would still be a young child. She appeared older than a dwarrow, but looking at her, he knew that still had a chance to be a part of Raven's childhood, that she still might need him the way that Kíli had relied on him to be a protector and role-model when he was younger. Fíli's chest swelled with hope at the prospect of getting to know Raven, of having a new cause to fight for.

"Raven, Lass, I'd like to introduce you to your Aunt, Dís, and Cousin, Fíli." Dwalin said, his voice softening as he held out a hand, and Raven tentatively emerged from the smial; going to the warrior's side. Fíli watched as one of the fiercest warriors he knew wrapped a gentle arm around his baby cousin, wordlessly inviting her to burrow into his side. Although they had only known each other for a few days, the visible proof of Dwalin's loyalty to Raven stung. Evaluating Dwalin's behaviour, Fíli realized with a shock that the warrior might even be more loyal to Raven than he was to Thorin. Fíli had never questioned Dwalin's loyalty before, and technically, Dwalin would continue to be loyal to the line of Durin, but it still felt mildly surprising to Fíli to see the way that Dwalin acted around Raven.

"I am Dís, sister of your  _Adad_ , Thorin. I am the youngest daughter of Thráin." Dís swept Raven a regal curtsy, Raven's eyes widening as she took in the dwarrowdam.

"I am Fíli, son of Víli, at your service, Raven daughter of Bilba." Fíli added his own greeting.

"Raven, daughter of Bilba at your service." she mumbled, bobbing a little in what Fíli thought might have been an attempt at a curtsy.  _Clearly,_ Fíli observed,  _she is not a princess yet,_ but already he found himself thinking over what he could teach Raven to help her become a true princess from the line of Durin.

"Raven!" An unfamiliar female hobbit emerged from the hobbit hole. "What are you doing here? You're still supposed to be in bed, not up and outside!" she scolded, a thin blanket clutched in her hands.  _This_ , Fíli realized,  _had to be Primula._  The hobbit bustled right up to Raven, and Dwalin surprisingly did not bristle at the her proximity as she tucked the blanket around Raven, who had silently and stubbornly refused to move away from the warrior.

"I am Dís,"

"Yes, yes, you're Raven's aunt and cousin, I heard you from inside the smial." Primula interrupted and Fíli glanced nervously in Dís' direction. They were not accustomed to being ordered about by a hobbit, and especially given their troubles in the Blue Mountains and the earlier confrontation in Hobbiton Fíli worried that Dís might lash out violently. To his relief, Dís took it in stride.

"Aunt Prim," Raven murmured in apparent embarrassment, her cheeks going pink as she glared at the outgoing hobbit.

"It's late though, and getting cold. You only just broke your fever, you've barely eaten anything and I must insist that you get back to bed." Primula scolded Raven who glared at her, back kept straight and proud. "If you've brought tents you can pitch them anywhere out here as long as you're not in a garden bed." Primula glared at them and Raven glared at her aunt.

"I feel perfectly fine and I've done nothing but rest for the past few days." Raven protested.

"All the same,  _mim ze,_  it's best that you rest a little more and not catch cold again. We'll settle ourselves and speak again in the morning." Dís beamed in Raven's direction, and Fíli himself couldn't help but smile as he looked at his little cousin. She certainly did have spirit, and although she looked older than a dwarrow child of sixteen would, she was still so very young. Moreover, hearing her stand up to her aunt was such a brilliant show of both her Durin heritage and the nature that she inherited from Bilba.

"I'm not tired though-" Raven was still protesting as Dwalin handed her off to Primula who physically shooed her into the smial.

"Even if she didn't look so much like Thorin, I would not hesitate to believe that she was of Durin blood with that spark to her." Dís beamed as Primula closed the door of the smial, cutting off Raven's continued protests.

"Aye, she's something that little Lassie." Fíli snickered quietly as he caught the tender expression on Dwalin's face as the warrior continued to look in the direction of the smial. With nary a warning, Dwalin reached out and cuffed him around the head. "You'll be lining up to do whatever the Lassie wants in no time at all, but don't think for a moment I'm going soft, you hear me?" Dwalin threatened.

"Never." Fíli vowed before turning back to the camp that was beginning to take form behind him.

* * *

Lying alone in a tent less than a quarter of an hour later, Fíli could hear the snores of his companions through his thin fabric shelter. In spite of his own bone-deep weariness, however, Fíli found himself unable to rest. There was still so much to do. He worried about Bilba and since catching a glimpse of her, he was even more curious about Raven. He wanted the dawn to come so that he might speak with his little cousin again, but at the same time he wondered what Thorin and Kíli's reactions would be. He wished that things would go well, but he couldn't help but worry that things might not go so smoothly. How could everything go easily, after all, considering how all of the Company, and especially himself and his kin, had hurt Bilba? How could she trust them? What could he possibly do to prove himself to her and, to protect Raven from any such hurt in the future?

* * *

Fíli's spinning thoughts had kept him awake until close to dawn. In spite of the lack of sleep and his own exhaustion, however, he jolted awake as the tent first began to brighten. For a moment, he was confused about what had woken him, but then he felt the weight of a curious gaze. Carefully, Fíli opened his eyes, and met the wide blue gaze peering around his tent flap.

"Good morning, Raven." he said softly, before she could flee. "Do you want to come in?" he continued, sitting up slowly to keep her from startling. Raven froze, but then, finally, slipped into the tent. Fíli smiled, this was his chance to get to know Raven, and he'd be damned if he let this opportunity go.


	9. eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilba heals.

**AN:**  Thanks for all of the continued support! Sorry this is a little late! In response to one question, the Company are coming, but hold tight for a little, they're coming from Erebor, so it'll still be a little while until they show up ;) When they do, it should be exciting (I hope!) :) Please enjoy and I do love hearing from all of you! :D

* * *

 

_Eight_

Bilba

* * *

 

**_The Last Homely House, Imladris_ **

**_Early October_ **

When Bilba woke she was in a comfortable bed in an open and airy room. It did not take her long to recognize her surroundings. The room had been hers during her previous visit; for almost a month, Bilba had felt too dejected to leave her bed.

"I am glad to see that you're awake." Bilba recognized the voice that spoke as well. This was the third time that she'd met the esteemed Lord Elrond, but she was no less stunned by his aura.

"Thank you, my lord, for the aid that you have once more given to me." Bilba remembered her manners, still feeling slightly chagrined while in his presence. Bilba hadn't been a part of the havoc that the Company had wreaked during their visit but, they were her friends.

"It was yet again my pleasure to help you, Bilba, elf-friend." the Lord replied, and Bilba felt a warm flush of embarrassment wash over her. She had done little, in her opinion, to warrant the title 'elf-friend,' yet Lord Elrond insisted on it. Bilba respected him enough not to fight after he had asked her not to, but it still felt odd.

"What day is it? My daughter, Raven, I need to get home to her." Bilba insisted, struggling amidst the sea of fluffy pillows and soft blankets.

"Rest easy, daughter of Belladonna, Raven is well-attended. I have sent my own sons to protect her and ensure that she wants for nothing until you are strong enough to return to her." Lord Elrond rested a hand on Bilba's uninjured shoulder, easing her back against the pillows. "For now, rest and recover, it is the best thing that you can do for both your daughter and yourself."

"I feel better, really, my lord. You've worked your magic once more, and I do not need more rest. I can begin my journey home-" Bilba tried to protest.

"I am afraid, Bilba, your wounds are more severe than you believe. It has been nigh on a fortnight since you were wounded. It took your companions a week, traveling as fast as they could, to get you here. After that, it took me a full day to cleanse your blood of the poison. You have slept for another week, healing. Still, you will require a few more weeks of healing before you will be strong enough to begin your journey." Bilba scowled at the elf's pronouncement.

"I am sure that if I took my time, I could begin the journey-" she began once more to protest. Lord Elrond smiled in what Bilba thought was supposed to be a soothing manner, and she knew she had failed.

"My sons will allow no harm to come to Raven. Indeed, I believe that she will have even more protection by the time that you return to her." he announced cryptically before turning towards the door. "I have other business to attend to now that you are awake. We will talk about other matters later and, until I can check on you again, I will leave you with a friend . I expect that you will not overstrain yourself and, if you think I won't know Bilba Baggins, then I assure you that I will." Bilba nodded ruefully. It was true, the Lord Elrond always seemed to know everything that was happening in the valley. As he departed from the room, Bilba's mind flashed briefly towards the mention of 'other matters'.  _What,_ she wondered,  _did he mean?_ Then, the entrance of a tall young man with dark hair and grey eyes distracted her.

"Estel!" she exclaimed. She remembered hearing his voice and seeing him before she had passed out from the pain and poison of her wound. That encounter aside, however, it had been a long time since they had seen each other. "Please, come in, come in!" she invited cordially.

The first time she met Estel, he had been a boy of eleven, who watched the dwarrow with wide-eyes from the shadows. When she had next seen him on her way back to the Shire, she had become friends with the young boy. He had sat at her side, demanding stories of far away and asking about hobbit culture. When she had taken her leave and returned to the Shire he had cried at their parting. Both had promised that they would meet again. In spite of her promise, Bilba had been surprised to find a grown Estel on her Buckland doorstep one day. Raven had been nine then, and Estel, who had recently come of age, had taken it upon himself to visit her. She had been overjoyed to see her friend again. Elladan and Elrohir had always visited Bilba, beginning before Raven was a year old. Still, Bilba had few visitors and found herself looking forward to each visit. Since his first appearance, he had taken it upon himself to visit her at least once a year. Sometimes coming more often, when he could spare the time. Looking at him now, she realized it had been almost a year, since she had last seen him. With each visit too she was coming to realize that, in place of the innocent boy, was an experienced Ranger.

"You are looking well, far better than when I last saw you." he smiled and the lines of worry that had begun to take root on his young face vanished. He took the seat that Bilba had motioned to without hesitation. Reclining in the high-backed chair, he withdrew a pipe from his tunic. "Do you mind?" he asked.

"No, no, not at all." Bilba invited. She half-longed to ask him for a pipe herself, but then stopped the thought. Before Raven had been born, Bilba smoked on occasion. She'd kept it a secret from her parents as it was an unacceptable behaviour for hobbit lasses. Though, after she'd become Bilbo she'd taken to the past time as a way to fit in with the dwarrow. Her pregnancy, however, had ended her smoking stint. At Lord Elrond's recommendation, she had given the habit up in favor of Raven's health. Watching Aragorn prepare his pipe, however, Bilba found herself fighting her own craving.

"Do you want one?" he asked, offering her the pipe as his gaze narrowed; catching her wanton longing.

"No, I don't." Bilba said resolutely. "I swore off smoking after Lord Elrond warned me against it during my pregnancy. Smoking is a health concern for Raven's developing lungs. How you've managed to cultivate the habit, I'd be interested to hear." Bilba smiled and Estel chuckled as he lit the pipe.

"I have spent much of the past decade in the company of men. I've travelled extensively in the North, getting to know my kin and our ancestral lands. Along the way I've picked up a fancy for pipe weed." Estel explained.

"Well, didn't I tell you you'd travel the world for yourself one day too." Bilba smiled at him, still half-seeing the little boy she'd first met. "It's crazy how time flies and how many changes we go through. Smoking was simply part of another life a long time ago and I can't honestly say that I miss it for most of the time."

"And a good thing too. It's a disgusting habit." The door opened and a second figure stepped in. An elf with long blonde hair carried a tray with a bowl of soup and plate of fresh-baked bread. The aromas were a harsh reminder to Bilba that she had not eaten in days that she could recall.

"Prince Legolas," Bilba smiled, forcing herself to tear her eyes away from the tray in question. "It's a pleasure to see you!"

"I thought you might appreciate some refreshment." Legolas offered, setting down the tray on Bilba's bed.

"You are Valar-sent!" Bilba promised her friend as she picked up the spoon in one hand and a piece of buttered bread in the other.

"I am but a humble elf, still attempting to earn your forgiveness for my father's treatment all those years ago. One simple meal, is a small repayment." the elf replied with a smile and a slight bow.

"Please, Prince Legolas, you're already serving me, a lowly hobbit, I can't take bowing as well." Bilba protested. "And, anyways, I've never held a grudge against you for that. I did my fair share of stealing after all. Not to mention how I freed thirteen prisoners. I think that we can safely let bygones be bygones in the past, your highness."

"Please, Lady Bilba, to you, my friend, I am simply Legolas." the elf protested, emphasizing his use of her own title in retribution. All the while, Estel puffed away on his pipe, chuckling at their banter.

"He really is no prince. All you must do is travel a week with him, and you'll forget all about his royalty." Estel added.

"I doubt that a week would do it, he's too pretty to look like any old commoner in the space of a week." Bilba teased, her face kept serious. "Still, are you speaking as the ranger Estel or Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Heir of Isildur?" Bilba demanded brazenly before flushing. Of course they were friends, but clearly the lack of food was going straight to her head. After all, she'd managed to rub at both of their heritages and appearances in one go.  _Who am I after all,_  she reprimanded herself,  _a mere hobbit lass to speak in such tones to not one, but two princes?_

"We have missed your wit, Bilba Baggins." Legolas said, his clear silvery laughter filling the room as Estel chuckled. The sound set Bilba's somewhat frayed nerves on edge. She supposed though, she did get rather brazen after near-death experiences.

"I owe the both of you my life. Without you, I would have succumbed to my injuries. It is a debt that I will not forget." Bilba fixed both of her companions with a serious look. "If there is anything that I can do for you, all you have to do is ask."

"You owe us nothing Bilba Baggins." Estel leaned forward in his chair while Legolas turned to face her from his window perch.

"Though, perhaps, you might shed some light upon an issue that Estel and I have failed to agree on?" Legolas asked casually, though Bilba felt her stomach drop a little. Sitting in the beautiful bed, she realized that her clothing had been changed. Under her two friends' gazes, a thrill of fear raced through her.  _My Ring_ , she panicked, wishing that she could slip it on and vanish. It had been in the pocket of her dress. Inwardly, Bilba worried that she'd lost it; even though there was nothing that she could do about it.

"Certainly," she forced herself to reply, as she turned her thoughts to the current conversation with some difficulty.

"You were wounded escaping orcs, but what had happened? How came you to be so far from Buckland? And how did you manage your escape in the first place? Orcs are not intelligent, but neither are they quite so careless with their prisoners." Legolas pressed.

"Oh, that!" Bilba exclaimed before she could stop herself. She'd been so certain that they were about to question her about her Ring. In fact, she had barely been able to focus on aught else, but that had been foolish. Relief seeped through her as she smiled, in spite of the hardship and began the story. When it came to Nyrin, however, her smile faltered. He had been her captor. He had taken her from Raven and intended to aid in Bilba's disappearance, and death. In spite of his involvement, he had died protecting her and she still felt connected to him.  _He had not been all bad,_  she reasoned,  _he had only been participating for the sake of the dwarrowdam he loved_. Bilba's smile fell away and her voice trailed off as she lost herself in thought.

"Bilba?" Estel coaxed her back to the present.

"I fear we've asked you quite a lot with little concern for your recent trials. We'll leave you to eat and rest and we beg your sincere pardon for bringing up such dark memories." Legolas's blue eyes radiated his concern and Bilba forced herself to smile. Although the elf was her senior, by at least a thousand years, at times he could seem so young.  _Almost,_  Bilba thought,  _as young as Estel._  At least, however, Estel really was her junior. Although Estel had become an experienced Ranger, to Bilba he'd always be a little boy.

_So much like Fíli and Kíli,_  Bilba found herself thinking before she could stop it. It was not the first time that the pair reminded her of the two young Durins. Rather, thinking about her boys, as she'd called them, and thinking about any of the Company, hurt. So, over the years, she'd determined to avoid thinking about any of them.

"You don't have to leave-" she protested, but her statements were weak. Both young royals took their polite leave, asking her again to forgive them and imploring her to heal.

* * *

 

Alone in the room, Bilba's mind turned to worry. She picked at the food that had seemed so heavenly before. Bilba found herself unable to finish the soup, and only managed one piece of the bread. Exhausted, in spite of her recent rest, she fell asleep in an attempt to escape her endless circle of worries. Raven. The dwarrow. The Ring. The orcs. Nyrin. Bilba tossed and turned, careful of the increasing soreness from her wounded shoulder.

When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed that Nyrin was begging her for help. That he accused her of doing nothing even though she had a magic ring and the reputation of fighting a dragon. When Nyrin finally vanished, he was replaced by Raven. Her daughter cried out for her, alone and scared while she starved. In the moments before Bilba regained consciousness, she saw a great eye ringed in flame.

"I see you!" the ghostly voice was still ringing in her ears when she startled awake in the dark. In spite of the moderate temperature, Bilba found herself shivering in a cold sweat. She'd had nightmares before, for many years in fact, but they usually featured the dwarrow. She'd seen the eye before, but she had no idea what it was nor what it meant. This time was, however, the first time that it had spoken to her. Thinking back on it, Bilba realized that it had seemed to know her. She shivered again and tried to go back to sleep, but her efforts were futile. It was not until the sky was turning purple in the pre-dawn light that she finally succumbed once more to sleep.

* * *

 

"Your wound is healing nicely. The Morgil poison has been withdrawn, and I see no symptoms of further infection. In a week or so we may be fortunate enough to remove the bandages. For now, I'll place more salve on it to help speed your healing and continue to protect from infection. You may leave your bed if you so wish. I would, however, advise against any rigorous activity should you accidentally re-injure yourself." Bilba sat silently as cool fingers probed at her shoulder as gently as possible. It had been a week since she had first woken. In the time since then she had mostly slept and eaten little. The nightmares continued until, after two nights, Lord Elrond had given her a small dose of a sleeping aid. The sleep had helped her healing, she thought. Still, the gentle probing at the skin around the wound made Bilba want to wince. She refused to, however, on the grounds that she was still fighting for the Lord's permission to return home.

"I can travel before then, I could be careful-" Bilba began to protest.

"You can travel when I give you permission." Lord Elrond replied evenly.

"But, I wouldn't be alone-" Bilba tried to interject.

"I'll not discharge you before you are properly healed only to have you injure yourself further." Although his voice was kind, his words were stern, and Bilba knew then that such begging was fruitless.

"I understand your concern my Lord-" Bilba tried again, unable to admit defeat. She'd been lying in bed for a week now with little to do save worry about Raven when she was awake. Her belongings at least had been returned to her. The Ring now sat in a pocket of the sleep dress that she's been given so, at least that was one less thing to worry about. Still, in the grand scheme of things, having her Ring back was only a minor success. She could try to ride from the valley, but she knew that would certainly lead to more injuries.

"I'm not certain, however, that you do." Lord Elrond interrupted. "With all due respect, you're worrying about your daughter's welfare. I am a father as well. I understand your concern for Raven, but if you try to go to her now then she will lose you for good. No child deserves to lose their only parent, not unnecessarily and not so early in life." Bilba opened her mouth to rebut his statement, and then closed it again. She did not have the words to argue because there was no argument to be had. Lord Elrond was right. Bilba was too weak to make the journey alone. In spite of his clear logic and her trust in him as a healer, it didn't make waiting feel any easier. Already it was almost a week into October. According to Lord Elrond's estimate, Bilba would arrive back home in early November at best. The prospect of waiting that long set her teeth on edge. Still, she was helpless to do anything to speed her recovery save rest. Well, rest and glare at the ceiling of her appointed chamber.

"I can send word to my sons, they should have found Raven by now. They can report to you how things are going and pass a letter from you on to Raven so that she knows that you are well and safe. A raven could make the journey in a few days." Bilba looked up, realizing that the Lord Elrond was no longer at her side. Rather, he had moved to the doorway, and stood ready to depart.

"I would appreciate that." Bilba found herself replying. The elven lord smiled gently at her and nodded before leaving Bilba to be once more alone with her thoughts.

* * *

 

She was not alone for long, however, before a gentle knock sounded on her door. She was half-tempted to feign sleep and continue ignoring the world, but she answered it. A moment later, Estel entered the room.

"You are looking well today, Bilba." he commented as he took a seat in the high backed chair by her bedside. He and Legolas had both been back a few times to visit though no one had broached the subject of her capture again. Nor, she thought, had they really told her anything of substance.  _Almost_ , she mused,  _as though they think me too delicate to handle such tidings._

"Thank you, Estel. You look rather dapper yourself." Bilba summoned her positivity with mild difficulty. It was true, however, that Estel was looking less tired and lean than when she had first woken. Time in the Valley seemed good for everyone.

"The miracles of a bath and a week of good rest." Estel replied with an easy smile. His tone was carefully light; apparently to keep from upsetting her.

"I feel much better, Estel. Now, so long as I'm a prisoner of this healing ward and forced rest, will you finally tell me what's happening in the North?" Bilba fixed him with a determined gaze.

"I am afraid I was given strict orders by the Lord of this House not to-"

"Don't you dare say upset me or anything of that ilk. If you do then I'll be forced to leave this valley and discover the tidings myself on my way home. I can assure you too that such a departure will draw far more attention than your passing on a few tidings." Bilba threatened.

"Not a word of this leaves this room." Estel threatened.

"Agreed." Bilba nodded, jumping at the opportunity to engage in a true conversation for the first time in days.

After Estel and Legolas's first disastrous visit, she'd found her subsequent visitors tight-lipped. When Estel and Legolas had returned to see her a few times, they had resolutely clung to neutral topics. Bilba had pleaded for a change in conversation without success. She suspected that they felt guilty for causing her distress, but she didn't know how to set them back at ease.

* * *

 

Estel began explaining the gravity of the situation in the North to her. The crops were failing, the threat of disease loomed, and attacks settlements by orcs and wild men had become all too common. Estel was in the midst of explaining this to Bilba when Legolas entered the room, and then hesitated. The two had not visited her together again. Seeing their hesitation, Bilba suspected that their lack of synchronicity had been planned; not by accident.

"Oh just come in, Legolas. Perhaps you have something to add about our growing enemies and the threat of starvation too?" she exclaimed when he continued to hover.

"I fear we are ordered not to-." the princeling began and Bilba all but growled at him.

"I don't care what Lord Elrond told you! I'm starved of information and going crazy. Please, will you at least tell me about the goings on of the rest of the world?" Bilba threatened. Legolas fell silent for a moment, exchanging a glance with Estel, who merely shrugged. Then, the prince stepped delicately into the room, closing the door firmly behind him.

"Which tidings has Estel been sharing?" Legolas asked politely.

"She wants to know everything." Estel complained, and Bilba rolled her eyes. She was glad though to have such friends in her life. She still missed the Company and the companionship that they had offered. Still, Estel and Legolas had come into her's and Raven's lives when the were in particular need of friends. Now, it was comforting to listen to their banter.

"Our enemy is growing. I myself was kidnapped by dwarrow plotting against Thorin. Of course I wish to know everything." Bilba interjected stubbornly.

"Well then, I suppose we may be here for a while." Legolas said with a calm that all the elves that Bilba knew seemed to have perfected.

"Why are our enemies gathering? Azog was killed and Gandalf said that he had driven out the Necromancer who had been behind all the plans. Why then are our enemies gathering again?" Bilba demanded in confusion. Estel and Legolas exchanged a wary glance. "Tell me." Bilba insisted.

"How much do you know of the Necromancer?" Legolas finally asked.

"He was a wizard of sorts, able to bring back the dead. Gandalf fought him." Bilba replied, straining to recall what the wizard had told her all those years ago.

"He was not  _just_  a wizard." Estel took up the tale. "He was a Spirit, an old spirit of our greatest enemy."

"What do you mean?" Bilba frowned, a pit growing in her stomach.

"You've heard of Sauron before?" Legolas asked.

"But he was killed a long time ago." Bilba hesitated, looking to Estel, "your ancestor, Isildur, he defeated Sauron. It was the last allegiance of Men and Elves, well sort of last."

"Sauron was defeated, but not killed." Estel sounded more grim than Bilba could ever remember him being.

"How could he survive?" Bilba asked, before the answer came to her. "The Necromancer's spirit, it was Sauron, wasn't it?" she asked, dreading that she might be right.

"It was." Legolas replied.

"But Gandalf defeated him?" Bilba asked with hope that she no longer had.

"He, Lord Elrond, Lady Galadriel and Saruman, drove the Necromancer from Dol Guldur. They did not defeat him." Legolas replied, his voice regretful.

"Sauron has been under watch since then, but he has regrouped. He is gathering the Forces of Evil. Across the land, orcs, wargs, goblins, and other servants of the enemy have been multiplying. Their work in turn disrupt our crops, and starvation causes greater despair." Estel told her solemnly.

"He wants another war?" Bilba asked with dread.

"Yes, that is his eventual intent." Legolas confirmed.

"Eventual? What's stopping him?" Bilba demanded.

"The Ring that Isildur cut from Sauron's hand, the One Ring. Sauron needs it in order to finish covering the world in a final darkness. Until he gets the One Ring we have hope, but only so long as we can keep it from him." Estel replied, and Bilba felt very aware of both of their gazes on her.

"Where is the One Ring?" she asked nervously as she fought the urge to reach into her own pocket and grasp her own magical ring.

"Lost. For thousands of years, it has passed from mortal memory." All three of them turned, having been unaware of Lord Elrond's arrival. He fixed Estel and Legolas with a disapproving glance, before turning to Bilba. "A ring was found with your clothing, one with great power-" he said, allowing his voice to trail off.

"What of my ring?" Bilba demanded, anger flaring inside of her.

"You got it on your adventure, didn't you?" Elrond probed.

"It was a present." Bilba insisted immediately.

"Where did you come by this ring?" Estel asked gently, and Bilba's gaze switched to him.

"I got it in the tunnels under the Misty Mountains, but it was a gift, I didn't steal it." Bilba defended herself, her fists clutching at the soft blankets around her in anger.  _Why,_  she wanted to know,  _do they care so much about my Ring? Can't they just leave me alone?_

"We never implied that you stole anything." Elrond interjected softly, but firmly.

"Then why are you interrogating me about it?" Bilba challenged.

"There are few magical rings in this world, Bilba Baggins. None of them should be used lightly, and all should be treated with suspicion. You have a magical ring, you have used it, and the enemy has been drawn to you. I can feel the power of your Ring, Bilba. It is strong, and I would not have you brought to any danger for possessing it." Elrond said carefully.  _He wants it for himself,_  Bilba thought with dread. She spared a glance towards Estel and Legolas. They too regarded her with cautious concern, and Bilba shifted uneasily.  _Do they not have enough power? As royalty? As Warriors?_ Bilba knew better than to think she could win against them. That did not mean, however, that she would simply let them take her Ring. No, she would fight to keep her Ring, even if she might lose in the end because, without it, she never would have survived.  _I need it_ , Bilba reassured herself,  _I need it more than any of them._

"You only say these things because you want my Ring for yourselves!" Bilba exclaimed, pushing the blankets back roughly. "Well, you can't have it!" she shouted, and with that she let the cool metal slide over her finger. She was vaguely aware of the looks of shocked horror on all three faces, and dimly she felt satisfaction. Clearly, they had underestimated her, but she would not be made a fool of. The ring was hers, only hers, it was her precious.

* * *

 

Bilba fled the room, racing invisible down the halls and out into the gardens. Only when she was certain that she was out of sight did she remove it. It felt good to take it off too, and in spite of the warm autumn sunshine, she shivered. It made her feel cold when she wore the Ring, but she couldn't help it. She had been wary of it before, and she knew that she was touchy when it came to discussing it, but she was careful. She only used it when it was absolutely necessary, and it had been necessary before. She had needed out of the room and using the Ring had been her only chance. Bilba heaved a sigh. They were still her friends, she trusted Estel and Legolas, she and Raven both cared greatly for them. She also owed her life to Elrond and, he too had been very generous, naming her elf-friend and always giving her aid. His own kin were off in the Shire caring for Raven right now. Yet, she had snapped at him and accused her friends of trying to steal from her.  _What,_  she despaired,  _has gotten into me?_  She had fled because she was so certain that they wanted her Ring. It was an absurd paranoia in retrospect, because they had only been asking questions. Not once had they asked for it directly.  _They even gave it back to me,_  Bilba reasoned.  _But,_  her mind countered,  _they were asking questions about it, and no good ever comes of questions._

Bilba suddenly felt both very small and very alone as she stood, hidden in the gardens. She sank to her knees, coming to sit in the tall lush grass. It had been too long since she had been outside, since she had been so immersed in nature. Longer still since she had seen Raven, since she had held her daughter. Alone, frightened and overwhelmed, Bilba began to cry.

* * *

 

"Bilba Baggins, daughter of Belladonna." Bilba's head whipped up.

"Who are you?" A tall elven woman with kind eyes approached her.

"I am here as a friend." she replied with a soft smile. "You are upset, you miss your daughter, and you are confused by the Lord Elrond's questions." Bilba blinked in stunned agreement. "Perhaps I might ease some of your troubles. You have been experiencing nightmares. In them, you have seen an eye." Bilba shifted uncomfortably,  _how does she know so much about me?_  Bilba wondered, though she couldn't help but feel simultaneously intrigued.

"Yes." Bilba heard herself answering. "Yes, I have. It was a burning eye."

"Then allow me to explain. Sauron has taken the form of an eye, lidless and wreathed in flame." Bilba felt a thrill of true fear rush through her.

"But that's what I saw, an eye. It spoke to me too. It warned that it saw me." Bilba whispered. "Is it Sauron speaking to me?"

"It may be. Certainly, the Lord Elrond fears for your safety. He knows not whether your Ring is the One Ring. However, Sauron is searching for his One Ring and it in turn is seeking to return to its master." the elf said.

"But what does it mean? Even if my Ring is the One, what does it mean?" Bilba whispered helplessly.

"It means that the Valar have set a difficult path ahead of you." the elf knelt in the grass by Bilba, regardless of her expensive gown. "But despair not, Bilba, for you have friends. More, perhaps, than you know. You will not be alone." The elf offered Bilba a hand, and Bilba took it carefully.

'Who are you?" Bilba repeated.

"My name is Galadriel. I shall soon meet you in person, Bilba, but until then I send to you my granddaughter, the Lady Arwen. She will be a friend to you. You may confide in her, and she along with the Lord Elrond, Aragorn, and Prince Legolas will all help you. They are not alone either. The path that lies ahead of you Bilba Baggins, is a complicated one. You will face dangers and difficulties, but fear not because you won't be alone." Another figure appeared in the garden. Bilba turned from the golden-haired elf to see a dark-haired elf approaching.

"Well-met, Bilba Baggins, daughter of Belladonna. I am the Lady Arwen, daughter of Celebrían, and I am most honoured to meet you." she said with a curtsy.

"The honour is all mine." Bilba managed to reply with a clumsy curtsy of her own. She glanced back to the golden-haired elf, but found the space where she had stood empty.

"My grandmother has the ability to commune across distance. You have seen but a vision of her." Arwen explained.

"Oh." Bilba said when all other words failed her.

"Come, you must be hungry no doubt." Arwen extended a hand and, thinking about it, Bilba realized that she was indeed hungry. Hungry and tired. The thought, however, of returning made her pause. She had been horrible before. She had, after all, fled from Elrond, Legolas, and Estel when they had only ever been trying to help her.

"They bear you no ill will. They only wish to help. They understand that help is not easily accepted. They will stand beside you, however, no matter how long it takes you to accept their aid. After all, faithless are friends who say farewell when the road darkens." Arwen said, and Bilba frowned, wondering if the elf could read her mind. She had not heard of such a gift, but the Lady's ability to answer her worries was disconcerting.

"Can you read my mind?" Bilba asked hesitantly, feeling a little foolish for even asking.

"My grandmother can see into your thoughts. I cannot yet master such a gift for I am much younger. She did, however, warn me about what might cause you distress. I believe that I am in turn insightful and observant as well." Arwen replied with a gentle laugh.

"I see." Bilba replied, though she still felt as though the Lady Arwen might not be telling her the full truth.

"Well then, now that we understand each other better, shall we find food?" Arwen asked.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt." Bilba admitted, her stomach growling lightly. "But then I fear I must have a rather serious talk with the Lord Elrond. I certainly need to apologize to him, Estel, and Legolas."

"So be it, but food first." Arwen nodded. Then, side by side, the two exited the garden. Although Bilba still felt a distinct sense of dread at what the future might hold, she began to be a little more at ease. Lady Galadriel and Lady Arwen were right, she had friends. Such good friends that, in spite of her atrocious behaviour, they hadn't deserted her. She might be here for the foreseeable future, but she was resigning herself to it.  _At least this way, if my Ring is dangerous, if it was Sauron's, I won't be leading him to Raven,_ she consoled herself.


	10. nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dís settles in to life in the Shire.

_**AN**_ :Thank you again to everyone for their continued support! A little insight into how things are going in the Shire, please enjoy and let me know what you think of the chapter! Happy reading :) 

* * *

 

_nine_

Dís

* * *

 

_**Buckland, by the Forest** _

_**mid-October 2958** _

Her tent leaked. Dís lay on her camp cot and glared at where the water permeated the thick fabric of her temporary home. She knew that the leak shouldn't make her angry, but it did. Dís had lived a simple life before in Ered Luin. Or, at least, she had thought it was simple. Compared to what Raven was used to, however, Dís and her family had lived in downright luxury. Dís ground her teeth in frustration. Her niece was on the verge of starving, and yet they were still here waiting on Bilba to return. If Bilba was anything like Dís, then they shouldn't have any problems. Dís and Fíli had arrived to investigate. When they discovered the poverty that Raven lived in, they should have taken the girl and left. Should have, but didn't because Dís wasn't a complete monster. This was still Raven's home; the entire world as she knew it. Furthermore, Raven's aunt and the two elves refused to grant Dís permission to spirit Raven away. The only place that they would even hear of Raven traveling to was Rivendell. Dís scowled in her bed, like she'd ever willingly deliver her niece to that elf lord's care. As it was, the girl didn't know how to defend herself and spoke more of the elvish dravel than she knew any khuzdul. It was a shame. Raven was a princess of the line of Durin and, what was more, she wanted to learn. Instead, Primula and the elves insisted that Raven continue with her previous studies. Structure, they called it. Idiocy, Dís judged.

Dís had been living in the tent for nearly a fortnight now and she was coming to hate it. It wasn't that she didn't enjoy living in the outdoors. Nor did Dís begrudge the fact that better accommodations weren't to be had. They were, however, exhausted and relatively undefended. Not to mention that this wasn't the kind of lifestyle that she wished to expose to Raven. They could do better for the youngest daughter of Durin; they would, but they weren't allowed to. Yet, who was allowed to give her orders? Even Thorin's orders steered clear of Dís; she was a princess after all. Born and raised as royalty, Dís was accustomed to being respected and obeyed, not stood up to by hobbits and elves.

* * *

The leak dripped again, and Dís pushed back her blankets with a curse. Luxury wasn't an option now. Lying in bed and glaring at the rain spot responsible wasn't going to accomplish anything either. Clearly, despite her efforts, they were going to be in the Shire for a while. Therefore, although the dwarrow's time in the Shire was still temporary, Dís was done with living in a tent. They could not spirit Raven away, but it wasn't as if they lacked the supplies, dwarrow, or time to construct a few stronger buildings.

Her mind made up, Dís dressed quickly. After combing and redoing her braids, with practiced movements, Dís left her tent. She headed first in search of the soldiers who had come with them. The nearly two dozen dwarrow had been taking turns patrolling the area and hunting. Now, Dís had a better job for them than to wait to be called out on a few hours of riding.

Dís strode through the village of tents, heading for the main campfire. A good dozen dwarrow sat around it. They exchanged stories, braided their beards and sharpened their weapons.

"Princess!" they leapt to their feet as one at Dís's approach. At least amongst her own people she still had respect, Dís mused.

"Where are my son and Dwalin?" Dís demanded.

"Training with the Princess, Princess." Dís frowned. She had been so used to being the only princess, it seemed odd to share the title now. Yet, at the same time she couldn't help the smile that came to her lips both at the title and the response. Raven needed more training, and it was good that she was still attending her sessions with Dwalin and Fíli. After all, they had all heard her aunt's vehement protests. The hobbit felt that learning to fight simply enabled more fighting. Considering how Raven looked up to Primula, Dís had worried that Raven's enthusiasm would ebb. So far it had seemed to work the opposite way. In fact, Dís couldn't remember seeing a youngster as dedicated to her training as Raven. At least, not since Thorin had been a child.

"Thank you, Dolgin." Dís murmured to the brunette dwarf. He nodded with a bow as Dís moved off, distracted with her triumph where it came to Raven. "Oh, and Dolgin, have your men start on a more permanent shelter? Something with a roof and walls as I expect we'll be here a while longer. The tents aren't holding up in the rain."

"Of course, at once, Princess." Dolgin bowed again and Dís nodded in acknowledgement. Then, she headed in the direction of the makeshift training field. Dolgin was both loyal and efficient. They would have their shelter soon; she'd left the job in good hands. Stopping at the edge of the training area Dís scanned the area. A half a dozen or so figures were practicing. Dís easily spotted Dwalin's distinct form standing beside Fíli's golden head at the head of the archery lanes. Between the two warriors, Dís glimpsed a much smaller dark-haired figure holding a bow.

Dís smiled, crossing her arms over her chest as she settled to watch the training session. An eager child, Raven had proved herself to be a hard worker to the point that even Dwalin praised her progress. Watching as Raven trained, Dís found herself once more in awe. The girl wouldn't stand a chance against Dwalin or Fíli, however, she was progressing rapidly. Another arrow buried itself in the target. It was not a perfect shot, but considering the girl had been shooting for less than a week, Dís couldn't help but clap.

"Auntie Dís!" Raven turned. Bow still in hand, a brilliant grin spread across her features, and Dís could not help but return it.

"Excellent shot!" Dís praised and while Raven thrust the bow at Fíli and bounded over. Dwalin muttered under his breath and shook his head in disapproval in Dís's direction. She shot him a stern look while accepting Raven's embrace. Dwalin was a good teacher. Receiving praise from him was one of the best feelings in the world because he didn't give it out often. Still, Dís had been protective of her boys, careful to ensure they knew that she was proud of them. It was nothing, however, compared to how protective she was of Raven and her progress.

"You're doing an excellent job." Dís praised her niece again. "At least with your training," she amended, running a gentle hand through the girl's mass of dark hair. She glanced over towards Dwalin and Fíli, who both quailed, understanding the cause of her upset. "I thought I taught you better." Dís didn't raise her voice, afraid that speaking louder would scare Raven.

Although Raven could be a true spitfire, she was still easily intimidated. Especially, Dís had noticed, when it came to the frequent outbursts that the dwarrow engaged in. From her behaviour, it seemed clear to Dís that yelling wasn't a routine part of Raven's life. Perhaps, the dwarrowdam reflected, it was a hobbit thing. As a full-blooded Durin, Dís knew only too well how the dwarrow reveled in their boisterous lifestyle. As a matter of fact, she frequently found herself at the heart of the merry-making. Raven's timidity was just another reason to wait to introduce the girl to more dwarrow. As much as Dís wanted Raven to become a part of dwarrow society, after all, she still had to consider the girl's welfare. It would be nothing short of a culture shock to bring her now. Furthermore, Dís worried that if Raven was too overwhelmed then she'd retreat into herself. If Raven had confidence in herself and was gradually introduced to dwarrow culture then, Dís was certain she'd flourish. After all, Raven wasn't just any dwarrow either. She was Princess of Durin, and that meant, unfortunately, she'd be at the heart of all scrutiny. She had to flourish or she'd be seen as weak and considered an outsider and a fool. Not that anyone had told the girl such yet. They'd carefully focused on the positives, and it wasn't exactly as though they were lying. Raven would be celebrated. Children, especially girls, were always celebrated. New royals were always celebrated. Dís was certain that many dwarrow would celebrate Raven. The current political strife simply complicated matters, a little.

Behind the girl, both Dwalin and Fíli had the good sense to shuffle and look ashamed at Dís pointed comment. "What are you talking about Auntie?" Raven asked, looking up in confusion at her.

"Your braids," Dís reached up, fingering the fine ebony strands. "As a dwarrow, it is important to keep tidy hair. Your braids identify you, and your hair is a sign of pride." Dís reminded Raven. She had told the girl before, but it was a hard habit to adopt. At least, so Dís supposed as she spun her niece around, undoing the three clasps and freeing the messy braids.

Raven had already sported Thorin's clasp in her hair, unaware of its true significance, when Dís and Fíli had arrived. Its placement, however, had not gone unnoticed by any of the dwarrow. Dís had set to work almost at once. She had offered and, once accepted, had weaved one of her own hand-crafted beads into her niece's hair. It stood as a public recognition of Raven as her kin. Fíli had quickly followed suit, presenting Raven with one of his own beads. The girl, luckily, had accepted them, and Dís had crafted a temporary braid for her to incorporate all three. It would be Thorin's job to create a bead for Raven and her own to choose a braiding style. Dís knew that her brother had already lost so much of raising his daughter. So, although she longed to make Raven her own bead, she would not take that rite as well.

In spite of Dís's many explanations, Raven still didn't seem to understand the beads' real significance. However, she still appeared each morning to allow Dís to fix her braids. Dís smiled as she finger-combed the hair. At times it was easy to forget that Raven was only sixteen. She was very intuitive and thoughtful; more mature certainly than Fíli and Kíli had been at her age. Dís had little doubt that, given time to grow, Raven would become a true ruler. The girl certainly had the spirit of a true Durin, but she was simply shy for the moment around large groups. Dís didn't begrudge her for it. Seeing the little farm, it was clear that Raven seldom saw anyone save her mother and aunt. Moreover, though the girl tried not to show it, she was obviously upset by her mother's prolonged absence. It was only fair for her to be upset, Dís knew, though she still wished she could take away the unease. It was during those times, when Raven was upset or came to her with a tangle of hair, that Dís found it most easy to forget her age. Dís remembered soothing Fíli and Kíli's fears and doing their braids when they were youngsters. By the time that the boys were sixteen they turned to each other. Caught up in believing that they were too old to be seen comforted by their mother, Dís hated to admit it, but she'd lost them. They had been able to braid their own hair by that age and were determined to prove their independence. Dís wished they hadn't grown up so fast, but there was no going back, not anymore. Her sons were grown, but now she had Raven.

The girl had been blessed with very long and thick tresses, not unlike her own and Thorin's. They were, however, also far more curly than any dwarrow's. A trait from her mother, Dís supposed, wishing not for the first time that she could meet the famous Bilba Baggins. At times Dís was tempted to ask Raven about her Ma but, she knew it would upset her, and that was never worth it.

Dís easily wove the strands into the now-familiar pattern. Not that she'd ever admit it to anyone, but she hoped that it took Raven a while to learn how to braid her own hair. Dís had showed Raven how to do it herself and the girl had made a valiant effort to learn. In spite of the lessons, however, she still appeared each morning to ask for Dís's help. Or, as was becoming increasingly more frequent, Dís went to seek Raven at the training fields.

"Raven!" Dís just managed to slip the last clasp into Raven's hair before the girl turned. Privately, Dís cursed under her breath. It wasn't that she didn't like the hobbit exactly, but Primula was always interrupting. Raven turned to face her aunt, who was emerging from the tent city.

"I thought I told you that we had pickling to do today?" the hobbit put her hands on her hips, looking sternly at Dís's wayward niece.

"I'm sorry aunt Prim, I promised Dwalin I'd-" Raven trailed off under her aunt's stern glare. "I'll go start peeling the vegetables." Raven hesitated. "Thanks, Auntie Dís." she added before she bounded back towards the smial.

"You work that girl day in and day out." Dís couldn't help but scold. She knew that Raven was hard-working and that she aimed to please. So, seeing the girl upset by her other aunt's demands wasn't something Dís would stand for.

"We all work ourselves day in and out! Just because you've all shown up here doesn't mean that I'll be letting Raven run around wild." Primula returned, glaring right back. Dís had to admit, in some ways she respected Primula. For a hobbit with no training, she was undeniably brazen. Still, Dís was not used to being questioned, especially not when it came to her parenting. Primula obviously had no such qualms when it came to critiquing her, regardless of Dís's station. The hobbit didn't like the lifestyle that the dwarrow were imparting on Raven. That, she made very clear. In spite of her protests, however, Primula didn't know anything about what life was like outside of the Shire. Raven was a princess, she would have to be able to hold her own. Otherwise, she'd be put in a near-constant state of danger. Logically, Dís knew that it was a good thing to have another strong defender for Raven. As she glared at the hobbit, however, Dís found herself fighting the urge to take Raven and just disappear.

"Raven is not going wild. She's training. There's a difference." Dwalin interjected, before Dís had the chance to respond. Dís growled under her breath at the interruption. She wasn't sure, however, if she was upset that Dwalin had undermined her in front of Primula, or glad that he had defended Raven's training.

"You're teaching her to fight. There's no need to fill her head with such nonsense." Primula defended. "All of our lives, Bilba and I have taught Raven that violence is not an answer. Learning to fight only encourages her to use violence where it's not necessary."

"Perhaps violence is not the answer when living here." Fíli stepped forward, and Dís bristled instinctively at his placation. "But, Raven is my cousin and that means that she's half dwarrow as well. Not to mention, she's also the daughter of the King of Erebor. That means that she has to be able to handle herself. Bilba might have encouraged you to teach Raven peace here because that was what you needed, but Raven's not going to stay in the Shire forever. She has a life to lead outside of the borders of this little yard. In that world? She'll need to know more than pacifist practices." Fíli interjected.

"Outside of this yard? I believe that will be for Bilba and Raven to decide." Primula replied cooly. "And, until Bilba comes back to make that decision, then I believe that she can do without all of this training." Primula raised her chin in determination, glaring at them before she turned to leave.

"Safe the way that she and Bilba were, hm?" the hobbit's back went ramrod straight. Then, she whirled, her face flushed with anger and embarrassment while Dwalin fixed her with a smug look. Glancing sideways, Dís saw that his eyes sparkling with anger.

"Those were extraneous circumstances." Primula replied, visibly rippling with her own indignation.

"Peace." Dís felt her own fists clench at the appearance of one of the two twin sons of Elrond. Dís couldn't tell them apart; not that she bothered to expend her energy trying to distinguish between them. All elves were the same in her eyes; friendly only when it suited them. Dís had learned the hard way that it never did any good to trust them with anything important. Immortality, Dís thought, altered their perceptions and, their understanding of loyalty. Well, perhaps altered was too kind a term, she amended, glaring at the elf in question.

"You can just stay out of this, it doesn't concern you." Dwalin glared, crossing his arms over his chest, and glowering at the elf and his newly arrived twin.

"Peace, son of Fundin, we do not mean to meddle, only to inform you that there are young ears present. I believe that you would concur, they do not need to listen to such arguments." the second elf said, and then with identical bows, they departed. Dís watched him go before scanning the area, aware that in spite of the empty training grounds, they were not alone.

"Raven?" Primula called out, her eyes scanning the area in vain and Dís smiled to herself. If not for a hint of movement out of the corner of her eye, she too would have missed where the dwobbit had been hiding.

"Wait." Dís paused at the command, already several steps towards where Raven had been when Fíli called out. "We can't stand here and fight day in and out. Elladan was right, it's not healthy for Raven to see us fighting like this. So, why don't you all stay here and talk, and I'll go after Raven." Dís opened her mouth to argue, and then closed it. Unfortunately, her son was right. They had been fighting for too long. Perhaps their arguing was not as overt as it could become, but a tense atmosphere had been building.

"Just make sure that she's safe and that she knows she's cared for." Dís ordered and Fíli nodded.

"She's my baby cousin, Amad, you know I'd do anything for her." Fíli replied and Dís nodded. Fíli was, at his core, a protector. Dís knew that the bond he'd been fostering with Raven was undeniably strong. Since arriving, he'd become an older brother to her and it cheered Dís to see Fíli acting so lightheartedly. They'd pulled pranks together on Dwalin. Though the old warrior still grumbled, she knew that he was also glad to catch a glimpse of the pre-Erebor Fíli. In addition to drawing the shy Raven out of her shell, Fíli had also been the one to insist that she start her training.

"So, we need to talk." Dwalin turned back to Primula, tearing his gaze away from where Fíli had followed Raven. Dís knew that the warrior longed to go after Raven. She did too. Still, it made her smile thinking of Dwalin's protective tendencies when it came to Raven.

Resigning herself to the conversation ahead, Dís focused back on the hobbit in question. Dís and Dwalin were both in direct opposition to Primula when it came to Raven. It seemed foolish to be arguing over Raven's training and education, but here they were. What was worse, Dís couldn't see a way out.

"Fine." Primula met the warrior's gaze without hesitation. "I understand that you wish to be a part of Raven's life. You've raised fine upstanding dwarrow before, but Raven isn't a dwarf. Nor, is she your child to make decisions for. Therefore, until Bilba returns, Raven's future and welfare are my responsibility. You are all acting on the assumption that, once Bilba returns, she and Raven will go with you. It would give Raven a need for this training and to speak Khuzdul. You're assuming though that Bilba wants to see you again and, moreover, that she'd want her child to be raised with you." Dwalin didn't exactly flinch, but Dís knew that the implication that Bilba would see him as a threat hurt. Dís bit back her own ripple of defense. Thorin might have hurt Bilba before, but it hadn't been while he was aware of himself. Having also lost her own One, Dís would never wish that pain on anyone else; especially not a loved one.

"We're not here to jump to conclusions. We understand your hesitations and, if Bilba doesn't want us then, we will respect her wishes. However, like you've said, she's not here to decide that yet." Dís fixed Primula with an unflinching stare. "And, until she is here to tell us herself that we can no longer be a part of Raven's life we're not going anywhere. That also includes looking after Raven and seeing to her training."

"You seem to think that I don't want Raven to be able to defend herself. You're inferring that I am opposed to her expanding her knowledge base." Primula's eyes narrowed. "It's not just that. Yes, hobbits are peaceful creatures, we don't like to fight, but we're not innocent either. You know that Bilba's been shunned, but do you understand what that actually means?" Dís and Dwalin didn't exactly exchange an uncomfortable glance, but it was close. "Let me explain it then. It means that nothing that anyone does is ever punishable." Dís couldn't help her frown. "Bilba Baggins doesn't exist so she can't complain to the Thain about any wrongdoings to her person. As her bastard half-hobbit daughter? The only way we'd get a decision is if something happened to Raven and, obviously we have avoided that. If we fought then we'd be driven out of the Shire. So, we taught Raven to not to draw attention to herself, to avoid confrontation. Obviously, having Raven be able to defend herself is important to both of us that she's safe. We've devoted our lives to raising Raven, to giving her the best life we could. Obviously then, we want Raven to be able to defend herself, but we can't afford to have her out there." Dís and Dwalin exchanged a skeptical glance. "Starting things." Primula pressed and Dís sighed. She and Dwalin shared suspicions about Raven's childhood, but neither acknowledged said fears.

"And why do you think the Lassie'd be starting things?" Dwalin grumbled in disbelief.

"She wouldn't for her own sake, but Raven's protective of us, of Bilba in particular. People say a lot of things about her Mother, and her past with you, they tend to set Raven off." Primula admitted.

"I see." Dís sighed, exchanging a glance with Dwalin. She knew what it was like to defend one's family. She'd been put in the place of defending her family before. Dís could control herself when it came to herself. Her family, however, that was always another question. Even Dís had to admit she understood why Primula was so worried. In spite of that, however, Dís refused to go back on her previous word. Raven still needed training. She was defenseless and that alone put her in danger.

"Do you?" Primula demanded, her eyes narrowing in annoyance.

"Actually, I grew up in exile. Our home, the same home that Bilba helped us to reclaim, was attacked. Our people were slaughtered. I lost my own mother in that attack. Everyone I knew who survived lost loved one. By the time that we escaped? When we settled? We had next to nothing. My family are royalty, we are responsible for our people and their safety. When we failed them we were put under attack because our people needed someone to blame. They were starving, living in constant fear, the least that we could do was provide an outlet for their anger." Primula watched her cautiously. "I mean, I know what it's like to protect one's family, to feel the need to defend them from attack. You're right. Raven could get into trouble knowing how to fight, but that's only if we don't give her a proper education. That includes when to fight and when not to." Dís took a careful step towards the hobbit.

"Proper education aside, it's not your decision to make." Primula snapped.

"Nor is it yours!" Dís exclaimed, glaring at the hobbit. Looking down at it, she realized that they had come to stand toe to toe. They were both adamant that their views in terms of parenting Raven were the right ones.

"What if we decide, here and now, what Raven can do at present and, when Bilba returns she can decide the final word. Raven will continue to train in the mornings, Fíli and I'll show her how to shoot, nothing more." Dwalin said, stepping forward. "Then, she'll spend the morning until lunch with you working on the farm. In the afternoons, she'll study her reading, arithmetics, history. While the elves are here and we can teach Raven our respective languages. We will work in the evenings, taking turns and ensuring that she learns but is not overwhelmed." Primula, who had first turned to Dwalin in surprise, looked back to Dís for an explanation.

"My brother's a politician. I'd like to say he didn't rub off on me, but he did." Dís smirked, she never underestimated Dwalin's capacity for politics, but she knew that others did. Obviously, Balin had rubbed off on him more than he acknowledged, but it never hurt to be reminded.

"What about the crops? The farm? How will we survive the winter if Bilba doesn't choose to go with you." Primula narrowed her eyes and looking at Dwalin in suspicion.

"We have plenty of dwarrow sitting around, doing nothing. If we ask it of them then they will listen to your orders. The crops will be harvested and tended to. If there's still not enough, especially seeing how much we're consuming, we'll support you this winter in repayment for your hospitality." Dwalin replied without hesitation.

"Well, I suppose until Bilba gets back-" Primula admitted, unable to find fault with the warrior's logic.

"Good. Glad that's settled then. I'm hungry." Dwalin said, and without a further word the warrior turned and strode away.

"Well, I suppose I should start on the pickling until Raven returns." Primula muttered, the fight seeming to have gone out of the little hobbit. Dís nodded her vague agreement, and then followed after her friend into the sea of tents.

"What's all this?" he demanded, without turning to her as they stopped by where the main campfire had been. Already, Dolgin had gotten to work. Many of the tents had been taken down and dwarrow were hard at work carrying logs into the cleared space.

"My tent was leaking." Dís shrugged. Dwalin turned, raising a skeptical eyebrow in her direction.

"I thought we weren't to be here for long." he said pointedly.

"Well, Bilba's not back, my brother's on his way, and I don't expect we'll be leaving all that soon." Dís shrugged before heading towards the cook fire.

"Breakfast, Princess?" Sórli, the cook they'd brought with them, asked.

"Please." Dís replied, as the dwarf bowed low and began assembling two portions.

"For you and the Lord Dwalin." he explained, handing both to Dís.

"Thank you." she enunciated, passing the second plate to Dwalin. The warrior had materialized at her side, but failed to vocalize a thank you.

"My pleasure, Princess." Sórli replied with another bow. Dís nodded to the dwarf and moved away. It was odd how formalities had come back since Erebor. Before Dís had always been treated with respect. Since becoming a Princess, however, things were different. No matter what the dwarrow of the Blue Mountains and Ered Luin thought, Erebor was far from egalitarian.

"Does all the bowing ever bother you?" Dwalin asked, and Dís turned to him with a slight smile. At times it felt like he read her mind. The luxury, she supposed, of having been raised together.

"Almost always." Dís admitted and the warrior chuckled.

* * *

The two sat comfortably side by side. They enjoyed their breakfast and each other's company. It was one of the best parts of their sudden journey to the Shire, Dís thought. Having run out on the Lords and Ladies of the Blue Mountains, Dís found she had little work to do. No work, really, because she had left it all behind. With time Dís supposed she'd likely regret having abandoned it all. Having kept busy her whole life she supposed that she might even get bored. At the present, however, she couldn't bring herself to feel anything other than free.

The sun rose steadily in the sky. As the day progressed toward noon, Dís wondered at Raven's prolonged absence. She reassured herself, however, with the fact that her niece would be safe with Fíli.

Therefore, it was not until she heard the sounds of a commotion at the edge of the camp that she began to feel alarm.

"Help!" she heard Fíli cry before he came into her vision. Fíli was always the calm one, always able to get out of trouble and now he was a warrior and a crown prince. There was very little that could actually alarm her son. Very little except fear for another. Dís's stomach sank with dread. There was only one reason now for Fíli to sound so panicked. In spite of its sworn safety, something had happened to Raven.


	11. ten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Fíli bond, but things in the Shire are not always as peaceful as they appear.

_**AN**_ : You guys are the best! Thanks for all of the continued support and comments! They really do encourage me to keep writing! A bit of Fíli/Raven bonding here, but WARNING, there's a bit of violence at the end. Please, let me know what you guys think :) And, I promise, Bilba will be back soon, and the Company are also Shire-bound, though reviews just might help those reunions to come faster :D 

* * *

_ten_

Raven

* * *

_**Buckland, by the Old Forest** _

_**mid-October 2958** _

"Peace, son of Fundin, we do not mean to meddle, only to inform you that there are young ears present. I believe that you would concur, they do not need to listen to such arguments." Raven turned on her heel and fled from her hiding space.

Trust the Els to reveal her presence to her aunts. Elladan and Elrohir always put her safety first. Although she appreciated their protection, Raven cursed under her breath at them. She would have had to be stupid not to sense the growing tension. Now, thanks to the Els she'd likely never get to hear what was separating her warring aunts. Raven hurried around the corner, darting out of the camp. After the argument, and especially her discovery, she didn't want to go back. She couldn't handle a day of pickling in tense silence. No, what she wanted, what she needed, was time to herself away from it all.

* * *

"Raven!" she heard Fíli shout out behind her, and she redoubled her efforts. She surged forward, hearing his footfalls behind her as she darted through the camp. A few dwarrow called out behind her, but she kept going. Although they all had training, Raven knew the land. She'd spent all her life, all but trapped, on the farm and she knew all of its secrets. She darted up the road, around the hill and then into the woods; zig-zagging in an effort to lose him all the way. She was light on her feet but, behind her, Raven could still hear Fíli pounding through the bush.

"Raven, stop! I just want to talk." Raven hesitated, and it was all that Fíli needed. He sprang forward, his hand closing around her arm as he burst out of the bushes, and for a moment she flinched back. She saw his hurt, but he didn't let go.

"I don't know what you want me to say!" Raven burst out, tears stinging her eyes.

"Shh, don't worry, not about that." Fíli's hands moved to cup her cheeks, wiping away the tears that had fallen from her eyes. "I'm not here to be upset with you, Raven. I promised you before I'd always be on your side, and I am. I just don't want you wandering off and getting hurt."

"But why do you care if you're ready to leave?" Raven demanded while Fíli drew her to him. "You promised me you'd stay, but then you also promised that if my Ma wants you to leave, you would. So, were you lying?" Fíli gently rubbed her back as her tears kept coming, soaking the fur on his jacket.

"We never lied to you. Dís, Dwalin, and I, we will always be here for you, Raven. We will never,  _never_ , abandon you. If your  _Amad_  doesn't want us in her life then, we will respect her choice. But, listen to me, Raven, we will never forsake you. Not if you want us here because that will be your choice." Fíli promised.

"But that's not what Dís said. She talked about my training too. Isn't that about me? Isn't that my decision? But she said that it was all up to Ma!" Raven protested, anger bubbling up inside of her as she drew back to look at Fíli in panic.

"It's true, Dís did promise to respect your  _Amad'_ s feelings, but you're right, your training is your affair, not your  _Amad'_ s. We can talk about that, if you want. But, you should know, we won't leave you behind. If you want to come, you'll always have a place with us. We'll train you, and teach you about dwarrow society. You'll have a place with us, as part of my family, Cousin. Always." Fíli promised, but Raven frowned, still confused about how they could keep both of their promises.

"But then, I'd have to choose. If my Ma doesn't want to come, I'd have to choose between you." Raven whispered, recoiling and Fíli sighed.

"You might." he admitted and Raven nodded, swallowing hard.

"If I chose you, would we go all the way back to Erebor?" Raven asked, meeting his gaze and reading the truth there.

"Probably. It's safest there for us and we have our own duty to our people." Fíli replied. Raven exhaled, moving away and leaning against a nearby tree. If it came to a decision then, whatever she chose would be final. She couldn't move between them. It would be too far.

"Safe? Is the West not safe?" Raven frowned, suddenly catching onto Fíli's odd phrasing.

"Well, things are complicated right now. Thorin's made some decisions about how Erebor is to be run that aren't going over well with everyone." Fíli explained.

"What do you mean? Not going over well with who?" Raven demanded.

There wasn't much talk about tidings in the West, the East or any other holdings. At least, not around Raven. Her ignorance, however, wasn't due to a lack of her curiosity. Whenever Raven was present, if tidings were mentioned, the conversation changed.

"Well, folk in the West who were originally from Erebor expected to be given certain titles. Stations that their fathers and grandfathers were given. They expected them back. Instead, Thorin has given the positions to the best dwarrow for the job. He focuses only on skills, not on bloodline. It has upset other dwarrow so, Dís and I came here to keep the peace." Raven clung to each and every word. She was desperate to learn more about the so-called dangerous world. As it was, she knew nothing about what happened outside of the borders of the Shire.

"But then, won't they be upset that you're not there with them?" Raven asked, feeling a pit of nervous guilt well in her belly.

"They might not be happy now, but we'll do something to make up for it. Give them some gold, hold a feast, ensure that they don't starve." Fíli replied almost carelessly.

"But what good will gold do?" Fíli smiled down at Raven. It was an indulgent smile, and it made Raven feel like she'd asked something stupid. Dwarrow loved their gold, they hoarded it where possible, but she didn't understand it.

"Well, think about it like this. Dwarrow lords and ladies like to compare who has the most gold. It's a way of deciding who is important in their society." Fíli explained. "I'm sure that there's something similar amongst hobbits. A way of determining which hobbits are better in society's eyes."

"I wouldn't know." Raven replied bluntly, and Fíli winced.

"Well, it also allows them to buy food and clothing. The more gold, the more gifts, luxuries, and servants to do their chores for them that they can have." Fíli soldiered on and Raven nodded. It made a little sense she supposed. She'd been raised always lacking coins to buy flour. She simply couldn't fathom why it was necessary to have more gold than items to buy.  _Why_ , she wondered,  _should it ever be hoarded? What good was that?_

"They wouldn't like me, would they." she burst out, kicking idly at the dirt by her feet.

"What are you talking about?" Fíli demanded.

"I'm a dwobbit. They won't like that." Raven murmured, refusing to meet Fíli's gaze.

"But you're also a-"

"A daughter of Durin, their princess." Raven cut him off, before looking up at Fíli. "I know. But that doesn't mean they'll like me. According to what you've just told me, they don't like Thorin, and he's their true born king."

"Well, it's true. There may be a few dwarrow who speak out against your heritage, but they don't matter. Dís and I have claimed you as our kin and when Thorin and my brother get here they'll do the same. Our Company from the Quest will support you and that will be enough for the rest of Erebor. Look at the dwarrow we've brought with us. Do any of them disapprove of you?" Fíli demanded.

"Well, no," Raven admitted, unwilling to acknowledge his point.

"And, do you feel uncomfortable around them?" Fíli pressed.

"No."

"So you feel welcome with them?"

"Are Thorin and your brother really coming?" Raven demanded, changing the topic instead of facing her inevitable defeat.

"Yes, we had a raven within a few days of arriving in the Shire. The entire Company has left Erebor. They and a guard are coming both to apologize to your  _Amad_  and because of you." Fíli replied and Raven swallowed nervously again. She had been promised time and time again that the Company, that Thorin and Kíli would love her as well. In spite of the promises, she couldn't shake the fear that she wouldn't live up to their expectations. The gnawing fear that they would be disappointed by her.

"I don't want to have to choose." Raven whispered petulantly.

"Neither do I want you to. And, hopefully, you won't." Fíli said, wrapping an arm around Raven's shoulders. "I promise you, Raven, two things. Firstly, I will do everything in my power to earn your mother's forgiveness. Secondly, you will always have a place in our halls at my side. You're part of our family, whether you choose that now, in sixty years, or even never." Raven sighed and leaned against her cousin's chest. She didn't doubt Fíli's sincerity. He would hold to his word, but she wasn't sure what she wanted from the future. She was afraid both to stay and to go.

"I'm not ready to go back yet." Raven didn't acknowledge Fíli's promise. She couldn't. It was too overwhelming right now.

"Why don't we take a walk then?" Fíli's took her moodiness in stride.

Raven thought he should have scolded her. Certainly, Bilba would have told her off for her behavior. Instead, Fíli's walked silently at her side. Not too close, but not so far that she felt alone or, worse, like a nuisance. He simply gave her her space.  _It's a talent_ , Raven thought,  _the way that Fíli is always so perfect._  She wanted to be more like him. Considerate, understanding, strong, brave, and smart. He was her idol, Raven realized, stealing another glance at her cousin. He glanced her way and she quickly looked in the opposite direction. She felt her cheeks warm in embarrassment at having been caught staring.

Fíli's didn't once complain as they kept walking. Raven's own feet were beginning to hurt, her stomach churning with hunger, but she didn't want to admit it. She couldn't turn back yet, she couldn't face her aunts.

When Raven's stomach finally grumbled, loud enough for Fíli to hear he stopped them.

"You're hungry and tired no doubt. We should turn back, it'll still be a while before we return to the smial." he insisted, catching her arm.

"I don't want to go back." Raven refused.

"But, we do need food," Fíli pointed out, and Raven shrugged.

"There are berries, I'm sure we can forage." Raven looked around at the inedible bush around them.

"What about going into town? We could buy something." Raven glanced in the direction that Fíli was looking. The day was clear and she could easily see the smoke from chimneys. She hadn't been focusing before, hadn't realized how close they had gotten to the village.

"I'm not welcome there." Raven said automatically, shrinking away from the direction of the smoke.

"But you'll be with me," Fíli replied, frowning slightly. "Didn't I always promise to keep you safe?" he reminded her gently.

"Yes," Raven bit her lip lightly in apprehension.

"And you trust me?"

"Yes." Fíli reached out, holding a hand out to her.

"Well then, what say you to a few meat pies for lunch?" Raven smiled up at him. Fíli was right, so long as he was there then everything was going to be alright.

* * *

Raven felt the eyes of the village on them as they entered from the main road. She kept her head up, walking at Fíli's side like their open gawking didn't bother her.

"Well, which way to the best baker in this little village?" Fíli asked, turning to her and Raven blinked nervously.

"I," Raven hesitated, "I don't know." she murmured.

"That's okay, we'll find the best one together then." Fíli forced a smile, though even Raven could see that he was tense. All the same, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they navigated the main road. They followed their noses to the local baker. Fíli entered first and though the hobbit looked at them with wide suspicious eyes, she didn't cast them out.

"I am Fíli son of Víli, ambassador from Erebor and aide to their Princess. I've been asked to fetch her a sample of the best baked goods that your village has to offer." Fíli said with a bow.

"What kind of baked goods?" the hobbit woman asked sharply.

"A sample of all of them." Fíli replied, taking out a coin purse.

"I can make you a basket, Sir, but it will cost you." Raven winced at the price, tugging nervously at Fíli's sleeve. He glanced at her and nodded his acknowledgement, but still handed the coins over.

"I fear this trip into the Shire will cost me more than expected. I certainly hope the basket lives up to expectations, else wise the Princess won't be happy." he murmured. "Still, if your goods truly are the best, I can assure you, more business will be coming your way. I am sure that the princess will wish to be kept supplied too, if she takes a liking to them."

"You're really here on behalf of royalty?" the hobbit's eyes slid to Raven, who looked down, feeling embarrassed by the scrutiny. "You could keep better company, if you're in an official capacity."

"I am indeed here on behalf of royalty. Might I have the honor of introducing you to Raven, daughter of Durin, Princess of Erebor." Fíli swept Raven a grandiose bow, and she blinked in surprise. She had not been expecting that.

"But that's Bilba's ba-" the baker cut herself off, "girl." she finished lamely.

"Yes, indeed. Though, that should be Queen Bilba to you." Fíli replied.

"Bilba Baggins is a Queen?" the baker frowned.

"Indeed. She married King Thorin in November of 2941, making her the rightful Queen of Erebor. Raven here, as their daughter is the Princess of Erebor by birthright." Fíli replied while the baker blanched.

"She never told us, my lord, we never knew. Bilba, she didn't say anything to us." the baker insisted.

"Or perhaps you never listened." Raven hadn't exactly been hiding, but she straightened her spine as she stepped forward. Raven, aware of the baker and Fíli tried to remember everything that Dís had told her about being a Princess. How to behave, speak, and carry herself. Raven had listened for years as people belittled Bilba and herself but, she didn't have to anymore.

"Your, your highness," the baker stumbled into a curtsy. As the hobbit blanched and bowed her head, Raven sent a quick glance in Fíli direction. He winked at her and nodded his encouragement. Cautiously, Raven took another step forward. She cocked her head to the side as she surveyed the terrified hobbit. No one had ever been afraid of her, and it was an odd feeling, she thought.

"Well, I can be forgiving. So can my Ma, but why don't we start with that basket; a taster. Your best bread, pies, cakes, cookies, and other treats. I think it should also be free in exchange for my customer loyalty and endorsement." Raven said.

"Of course, at, at once your highness." the baker said with another curtsy. Raven nodded and then took a step back as the baker hurried to assemble the basket.

"Good job," Fíli whispered to her when the baker's back was turned.

"Really?" Raven whispered back.

"Yes, of course really." Fíli reached over, cupping her cheek with a smile. "I couldn't be prouder." he pulled her forward, gently tapping their foreheads together. Raven couldn't help but beam at the show of dwarrow affection.

"And you're  _just_  the Princess's envoy?" the baker blurted and Raven drew back, startled.

"No, he's not." she glanced at Fíli with a little smile. "Might I have the honour of introducing you to my cousin. Fíli, son of Víli, descendant of Durin, Crown Prince and heir to Erebor." Raven said, gesturing to Fíli, who swept the baker another bow.

"Your highness! Your highnesses!" the baker looked downright terrified of them.

"That's the basket?" Raven asked, gesturing to where the baker still had said basket clutched in her hand.

"Y-yes, it's all ready." she stuttered.

"Then thank you, and we'll be sure to come back if it suits our tastes." Raven said, taking it from her before linking her arm in Fíli's.

"Good day, my lady." Fíli nodded to the baker as they left the store.

"I think that's the most fun I've ever had in town." Raven glanced up at Fíli. "Thank you." she beamed.

"You are most welcome, cousin." Fíli smiled and then Raven giggled.

"I know the perfect place for a picnic. Come on!" she exclaimed, pulling Fíli along with her.

* * *

Since the dwarrow had arrived, Raven had been eating far more than she had ever before. Her waistline was expanding, her elbows and knees were no longer so bony, and Dís kept saying how pretty she was.

Sitting in a field outside of the village, off of the way of the main road, Raven and Fíli shared the basket. They devoured pie after pie, split a loaf of molasses bread and had too many pastries and cookies to even count.

"I've never been so full in my life!" Raven exclaimed, sinking back onto the grass, her hands over her swollen aching belly.

"I must admit, I haven't been this full in a while either!" Fíli admitted, lying back beside her.

"Thank you, for today." Raven turned, their blue gazes meeting. "Not just for the lunch, I mean, but for not making me go back. Or for making me talk about it all. You've always been here. I've never had anyone be here for me like that. It means more than I can say." Fíli reached over and took her hand in his much larger one.

"You know I always will be here for you. Whatever you need, baby cousin." he smiled and she returned it.

"Will you protect me from your mother when we go back?" Raven asked with a wry smile.

"You know I'd do anything to protect you, but my  _Amad_  is another matter entirely." Fíli replied.

"Will she be very mad?" Raven whispered.

"She will be upset that we've been gone, but I am with you, so she'll know that you'll be safe." Fíli reasoned.

"That's not an answer." Raven sat up, glaring at him.

"She'll be upset, but she can't stay that way, not with you." Fíli rolled up as well, setting a warm hand on her cheek. Raven bit her lip nervously and then nodded.

"I guess we should go back," she whispered.

They packed up in silence and began their walk back without speaking. Raven stared at the ground, worrying about how upset Dís and Primula would both be with her. She knew that they only ever had her safety in their minds, but she couldn't help feeling like she was being fought over.

* * *

"I'll race you back from here." They were less than half an hour away from the hobbit hole when Fíli broke the silence.

"What?" Raven looked over at him in confusion.

"I bet you can't beat me." he teased, his eyes sparkling as he grinned at her and Raven couldn't help but smile back at him.

"I can so beat you!" Raven scoffed and then took off. She headed deeper into the woods, aware of him following her. A grin split her face. He might have the endurance and possibly even the speed, but this was her home. She knew all of the shortcuts.

* * *

Raven was close to the smial, racing along the dirt path when she almost ran into the group of hobbits. She hadn't been paying attention to what was ahead of her, listening only behind her for any trace of Fíli. It was not until she saw the group that she began to feel true fear. They had spotted her, and although she thought about retreating, it was already too late.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't the  _Princess_." one of the hobbits sneered.

Raven skidded to a stop, her chest heaving as she looked around at the group. There were half a dozen hobbits now crowding around her. All of them male, and none familiar to her.

"Who are you? What do you want?" Raven demanded, trying to back up, only to find that the group had fully encircled her.

"Well, we only wanted to see the Princess in person." Raven felt distinctly uncomfortable.

"Say, it's a little strange that a shunned bastard suddenly became a Princess, wouldn't you agree?" Raven looked from one hobbit to the next and felt her stomach sink in dread. Aunt Primula and Bilba had both been right. She should never have drawn attention to herself. She had known better. Fíli hadn't. It had been her responsibility to stop him, to warn him, but she hadn't. She'd been too confident. Raven's heart sank in dread as hands clamped down on her arms.

"I'm not alone. My cousin Fíli's with me, and he's not just the Crown Prince, he's a warrior. He's going to protect me." Raven blurted, raising her chin in defiance. They didn't know that she'd raced ahead of Fíli, for all they knew he was there, ready to attack them.

"Oh really, then where is this warrior cousin?" one of them sneered.

"Enough of this. We wanted to make sure that the bitch and her bastard didn't have a claim on Bag End anymore. It's my mother and father's now and when they die it will be mine. That's all that's important." Raven turned to see the apparent ring leader.

"You're a Sackville-Baggins!" Raven exclaimed, glaring at the hobbit as unfettered hatred coursed through her.

"Lotho Sackville-Baggins." the leader proudly pronounced.

"You don't belong here." Raven glared at the hobbit.

His family had taken over Bag End. Aunt Primula had learned that and both she and Bilba told Raven horror stories about their kin. The Sackville-Baggins were the worst sort of hobbits. Lobelia had always hated Bilba. So, when Bilba had returned in disgrace it had been their family that had pushed the hardest for her to be shunned. It had, after all, given them a way into Bag End.  _Now_ , Raven realized,  _they are actually afraid that they might lose it. So, they're here to make sure that we can't reclaim it._

"We belong wherever we want to be." one of the other hobbits sneered. "We're all respectable hobbits here. It's you who doesn't belong."

"You should let me go. Otherwise, I'll scream and there are over fifty dwarrow at the smial, all of whom are sworn to protect me." Raven threatened, though she felt a steady shiver of fear racing the length of her spine.

"We don't believe you." Lotho sneered, leaning in until Raven could feel his putrid breath on her face.

"You'll regret that." Raven replied before she spit at him. The gob landed with a wet  _thwack_  on Lotho's cheek. Before she had a chance to dodge, he reached out and slapped her hard across the face. Raven's eyes watered, she saw spots dance in her vision and in her mouth she tasted blood, but she didn't fall. As her captors tightened their hold she fought to straighten and stand by herself. Her eyes still watered, but she refused to cry in front of them.

"You little bastard bitch! You'll pay for that," Lotho began to threaten, but Raven cut him off. Opening her mouth, she let out a piercing scream.

The hobbits all froze around her, but then nothing happened. Raven's heart sank. It was a breezy day and they were still a ways away from the smial. The dwarrow were there, the warriors as well as Dwalin and Dís who had also promised to protect her. The problem was, they couldn't hear her and she didn't know where Fíli was. Fíli. Raven hoped that he had heard her, but privately her heart sank.

"See that, little girl. No one's coming. They can't hear you because there's no one who cares." Lotho turned back to her, laughing. "It's a good thing too because we would hate to have to cut our fun short. You're sixteen now, aren't you? You don't look it, true, but who would even care about a shunned bastard." Raven squirmed uselessly in her captor's arms. Before Lotho had taken another step, however, one of the hobbits shrieked in pain. He had been on the edge of the group and fell into another two of his compatriots as he crumpled, still screaming. Raven stared in horror as she registered the hilt of a blade protruding from the soft flesh behind his knee.

"What-" Lotho began, but then Raven heard the battle cry. She didn't know much Khuzdul, but she recognized Fíli's voice. She thrust her elbow back into her captor's soft side, and the stunned hobbit had no chance to fight her off. Raven kept landing blows on the hobbit. Fíli's appearance gave her the distraction she needed, and the confidence. When his arms fell from her she scrambled away from him. Looking around, she saw Fíli knocking the rest of her would-be tormentors unconscious. The one hobbit was still screaming while Fíli had disabled three others with hard blows to their heads.

"Get behind me and close your eyes!" Fíli ordered her, reaching out and pulling her behind his larger frame. Raven cowered there, taking refuge from the carnage that Fíli was creating. She was, however, unable to close her eyes or, to even look away. The hobbit that had held Raven went down as Fíli punched him in the face, his nose breaking with a sickening crunch. Raven winced as the body fell and then Fíli turned to the two last hobbits. Lotho, who had gone pale, turned on his heel and fled down the road. Fíli jumped back into action. Lotho fell with a horrible scream, two knives in each of the tendons at his ankles. Fíli meanwhile used his elbow to knock the final hobbit unconscious. Then, he turned to the two injured hobbits. He didn't hesitate to give them the same treatment as their companions. As they went unconscious, day fell silent save for the rustling of tree branches in the wind. Suddenly, Raven's stomach heaved and she was sick in the dirt beside her. Fíli turned at the sound of her retching, though Raven couldn't bring herself to look up at him. They had only been racing, but then she'd gone too far ahead, she'd gotten reckless. This was all her fault.

Fíli's shadow fell over her and, reluctantly, Raven looked up at him. Her heart thundered in her chest, her eyes wide in shock. Fíli's knuckles were bloody, that was all she could focus on as he bent down. Her gaze felt stuck on his hands and, though she tried to tear her eyes away, she felt stuck on the stark contrast. The blood shone crimson against his white skin, sticking in her mind.

"Raven?" he asked softly, and the note of pure melancholy in his voice broke her trance. She looked up at him and saw the concern for her in his unshielded gaze. Raven felt herself shaking, her vision blurring as the tears she'd fought welled in her eyes. In her mind, she promised Fíli that she was fine, but in reality, she didn't fully comprehend what had transpired. In reality, she simply sat there.

"Raven," Fíli prompted gently, and then she flung herself at him, needing to feel the comfort of his embrace. He did just that, and she buried her face in his shoulder.

"It's all over, you're safe. I've got you now, I'm so sorry, Raven, I should have been here sooner." A hand tangled in her hair, his hand as he held her, pressing her tight against him. Raven knew that she should respond. She knew that he had been in real war before, yet she could feel his own arms beginning to shake. Knocking these hobbits unconscious was nothing for him, but still, he shook.  _He was also afraid_ , Raven realized,  _frightened that something would happen to me._  She drew back only to throw her arms around him, holding him as much as he held her.

"You came, it's over because you came." she whispered into the collar of his tunic. "I'm safe because of you." he rubbed her back, they clung to each other, and for a long while they didn't move. Tears still streamed from Raven's eyes, and she didn't really know why, but she couldn't stop them.

* * *

With the sun beating down on her, in the warmth of Fíli's arms, Raven's eyelids began to droop. She was vaguely aware of her cousin lifting her, but she found she couldn't say anything; she was just too tired.

"Help!" she thought that she heard Fíli calling, feeling as he broke into a run. Inwardly, she wished that she could ask him not to shout. She was trying to sleep after all, but then the commotion got louder. Dwarrow came running, she could hear their booted strides. Then, she could hear Dwalin's shouts as well as Dís and Primula's anxious voices. She was going to be in so much trouble, she knew it, but first, she really wanted to just sleep.


	12. eleven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli reacts to Raven's attack.

_AN:_ Thanks to everyone for kudos, bookmarks and especially the comments! Here's some more Fíli/Raven bonding and a bit on the revenge-front. Please let me know what you think, it would make the end of my summer vacation a little better ;)  More to come soon, and feel free to let me know what you think should happen to the unfortunate hobbits! :)  

* * *

 

_eleven_

Fíli

* * *

_**Buckland, by the Old Forest** _

_**late-October 2958** _

"We need to respond, now and in force!" Dwalin shouted across the gathering, to the loud agreement of many of the dwarrow.

Fíli listened without joining in. Since he had run back to the camp, there had been uproar. Raven was fine, sleeping after her ordeal. When she had first closed her eyes, however, Fíli had felt an overwhelming panic. Fear that, perhaps, she had been hurt. Though he could have sworn that she was unharmed, something still might have happened.  _Well_ , he amended,  _mostly unharmed_. The memory of the bright red hand-print and Raven's split lip danced in Fíli's memory. It made him want to hurt the hobbits responsible all over again, but he knew that he couldn't. Fíli had sent guards to collect the unconscious bodies. Now that they had the culprits in their custody, they would be dealt with accordingly. Or, they would be once a decision was reached. The dwarrow were unanimous in their thirst for revenge. The manner of said revenge, however, and how it was to be delivered was still to be decided.

Of course the decision ultimately rested with Fíli and Dís, both as Raven's kin and as the leaders of the dwarrow. The trouble was, Dwalin also claimed kinship to Raven, and that gave him a say in the goings on. He was much more violent in terms of the punishment he pursued. That, and it lacked any political finesse. Not that Fíli or Dís wanted anything less horrible to happen, but they both had royal expectations to uphold. In terms of authority, Dwalin held sway because the dwarrow respected the warrior. In terms of actual power, however, he was both Fíli and Dís's inferior.

Thus far, Fíli had chosen to abstain from the decision-making process; or rather the argument. He did not like to be confrontational. At least, not with his family or friends in front of other dwarrow. Even in private, he preferred to wait until he was certain of a decision. Dís and Dwalin, however, were unfazed by their audience. Privately, Fíli thought that they were too caught up in their argument to pay any heed to their surroundings.

"And risk losing the Western dwarrow's greatest ally?" Dís returned.

"They have done nothing to help our  _kin_ , Dís. They shunned Bilba, and they've all but condemned her and Raven!" Dwalin roared back.

"Perhaps, but we cannot be ruled by our emotions either! The hobbits responsible will pay, and everyone will profit. We cannot afford to draw the ire of the hobbits as well as that of the Western dwarrow." Dís insisted.

"That makes us lenient!" Dwalin growled.

"No, it makes us political." Dís responded with equal vehemence.

"And is that all that Raven is? A political pawn?"

"Of course not! She's my niece, not a tool!"

"Oh really? Then why are you not out there demanding their blood? Taking it the way that your son has it staining his hands?" Fíli shivered slightly, looking down at the stained palms in question.

Upon his return to the camp, Fíli had ordered the healers to look after Raven. They in turn had declared that she was just tired, but he still could not shake the guilt. He had been there to protect Raven, yet in spite of all his promises, she'd been hurt.  _What kind of a cousin am I then? What good as a protector?_  Fíli silently cursed himself as he stared at the crimson stains on his palms. The blood had dried and, in spots it flaked away from his skin. He should wash it off, but he didn't. It was his reminder, a silent penance. He could still, however, remember the way that it had stuck to his fingers when it was fresh.

"And do what exactly? They're not our subjects! They're not even dwarrow! We have no right to punish them at all!" Fíli finally looked up, stepping forward into the conversation.

"Then, perhaps, we ought to seek the right to punish them. We can go through the proper channels and seek our revenge. We'll make a point to all those who might stand in our way and we'll avoid risking the wrath of the hobbits or our Western kin." Fíli said, causing Dwalin and Dís to both look at him.

"And finally, the little prince is growing up and thinking for himself." Dwalin turned on him and Fíli sent a glare in the direction of his mentor.

"You'd do well to remember that I am still your prince." Fíli threatened and Dwalin shot him a wry smile.

"Very well, your highness, we'll do things your way." Dwalin gave him a bow. Fíli frowned, but nodded, glancing to Dís for confirmation. To his mild surprise, he saw no resistance from his mother; only acceptance.

"Very well." he heard himself echoing.

* * *

 

If Fíli was offered one more pastry he was going hurl it right back in the face of the hobbit who delivered it. It had been a week since the attack on Raven and subsequent agreement. Since then, Fíli had reached out to the hobbit leaders. It hadn't been easy, hobbits were after all, wary of outsiders and, what made it worse, he'd had to hide it from Raven.

She had healed well. The bruise was fading, and Raven's high spirits had also apparently returned. Since waking up the day after the attack, Raven had been upbeat. She was also set on putting the past behind her. Or so she said. Fíli watched her carefully for signs of residual fear, but with no luck. Raven seemed genuinely to be over what had happened. It confused him because he was not at ease whatsoever after what had happened, yet Raven was moving on. At times he wanted to attribute it to her youth and the previous difficulties that she'd faced in her short life. She was strong, a Princess of Durin, but she was still only sixteen. With so many new changes in her life, and the only parent she'd ever known still absentee, Fíli wasn't sure what to think. Nor, what might be safe to assume.

In response to Raven's attack, several things around the smial had changed. Her birthday, the twenty-second of September, had long since come and gone. Celebrations had been put off until Bilba was strong enough to return home. In the aftermath, however, Dís had decided that they'd waited long enough. When Raven asked about Bilba, Dís had responded that they would have to celebrate twice. Fíli thought that she was looking for a way to spoil her young niece. Additionally, Dwalin had stepped up her training. Raven herself had become more dedicated, insisting that she needed to know how to fight. Fíli couldn't help but be proud of her determination. It was admirable the way that she wanted to learn. Previously, he and Dwalin had focused on Raven's endurance, strength, and shooting abilities. Primula had disapproved of fighting amongst hobbits, and they had respected that opinion. Now, she did not dare argue. Fíli thought she felt guilty for Raven's attack in the Shire and her inability to fight her assailants.

Fighting aside, Fíli was learning something new. Diplomacy, in the Shire, consisted of plying the offended party with edible delicacies. It seemed that the so-called negotiations continued until they were appeased. No matter how much food he was offered, however, Fíli wasn't backing down in his stance. He wanted blood. Or rather, more blood than he'd drawn when he had injured two of the offending hobbits. They had, after all, dared to attack his baby cousin and he was not in a forgiving mood.

"Well, you see, I'm sorry Prince Fíli, but that's just not how things are done here." the Thain leaned forward. The Master of Buckland continued to look nervously between the two parties. He had been mainly silent during negotiation. The so-called Mayor of Michel Delving crammed yet another piece of lemon poppyseed cake into his mouth. He had been the primary consumer. It was almost disgusting how much he'd eaten.

"Well, having it publicly written about is not going to appease my family. You should also be aware that includes Raven's father, the King of Erebor. Now, I believe we would all profit, hobbits and dwarrow alike, from an alliance. We are willing to overlook this atrocity if you but give us the lives of the hobbits responsible for the attack." Fíli replied, doing his best not to clench his fists and growl at the trio. None of the hobbits in front of him posed a particularly authoritative figure. In spite of that, however, his negotiations had fallen on deaf ears. Unluckily for them, Fíli was a descendant of the line of the Durin. He had the tenacity of that bloodline in great abundance, and he was not going to cave to a bunch of fat hobbits.

Since the attack, a small guard had been set to watch over the hobbit prisoners. After being assured that Raven was fine, Fíli had interrogated them to find out their intentions. He had not liked what he heard. It had been hard not to take out his anger then and there, but he was no savage. He had learned for years to control his temper. Therefore, instead, Fíli had sent a message to Brandyhall where the Master of Buckland lived. The closest figure of authority, Fíli had expected the hobbit to cave to his demands. Instead, he had in turn called on the Thain and the Mayor of Michel Delving. Apparently, they all had to convene to judge what was to happen to the hobbits. The accused were, after all, apparently, from across their jurisdictions. Fíli didn't believe much of it, but neither could her argue.

When he had finally set out for Brandyhall, Fíli had been hopeful that a quick resolution would be reached. Gathering the hobbits had taken painfully long days, but since then all they had done was feast. Fíli had forced himself at first to partake, only to find that the parade of food did not cease. As they were plying him with food, every once in a while a suggestion that he forget his anger surfaced. Fíli refused the notion of peace each time.

These hobbits, after all, had the audacity to attack Raven. For them to then have the audacity to believe that they would escape punishment was too much. It hadn't taken long under dwarrow interrogation to learn their ugly intentions. They had planned to have their fun with Raven then, to dispose of her. All too so that the one, Lotho Sackville-Baggins, could keep his inheritance. The mere memory of those confessions made Fíli's blood boil in anger.

"My family will not settle for anything short of the lives of our niece's attackers. She is royalty, a Princess of the line of Durin. Her station cannot be overlooked. Attacking our Princess is equivalent to attacking us." Fíli stood abruptly. "I brought said prisoners with me to see that justice was dealt swiftly. I will leave them in your care. If you wish to pursue a war with the dwarrow of Erebor and her allies then, you may continue to keep the prisoners. If you wish to pursue peaceful relations with us, which I would highly recommend, then return them to us. You have until the end of the week to give us your formal response." Fíli gave a shallow bow. It was required to bow in dwarrow culture, but he did not deign to give them any real respect. Without waiting for a response, he departed. He suspected that he left a trio of flabbergasted hobbits behind him, but he didn't care.

"My prince?" Ginnar, the captain that Fíli had brought with him, stepped forward.

"Leave the prisoners. We ride immediately for the smial where we will dispatch a missive to King Thorin. He'll need time to mobilize the army if we are to finish an invasion before winter." Fíli raised his voice, allowing the many listening hobbits to overhear.

"Of course, my prince." To his credit Ginnar did not question Fíli's orders, merely agreed and bowed. Then, Nói stepped forward, the reigns of Fíli's mount clutched in his fist. Fíli nodded to the dwarf and mounted in one fluid motion. Then, without looking back, he led his small company from the yard. They galloped along the smooth roads; the riding was easy and Fíli was eager to be back.

* * *

"Fíli!" he turned as he dismounted to see Raven headed towards him. "I missed you! Auntie Dís said that you were supposed to be back yesterday. We were worried about you." He accepted her embrace. She felt stronger now, her arms had real strength, muscles and more weight compared to when he had first seen her. As she drew back, smiling up at him, he realized that Raven's weight was not the only change. Fíli would never have called her shy per say, but she had lacked a certain self-confidence. Now, he could truly see how she was his kin. She had Kíli's optimism and Dís's determination.

"Well, I'm afraid that I had to engage in political niceties with your Master of Buckland, Thain, and Mayor. They have a certain way of conducting deliberations. Lots of food, very little work." Fíli said with careful ease, not wanting to scare Raven or to alert her to the gravity of his mission.

"They like food. All hobbits do. They think it's the way of communicating. Well, other than flowers that is." Raven shrugged, looking up innocently at him. "Do dwarrow not use food to apologize? Or to communicate at all?" Raven frowned.

"Well, we use different things. Money for one, and jewels for another. Dwarrow care more about titles as well. Positions in society through appointments on councils or marriages. Those are our way of apologizing and asking for favors." Fíli explained carefully.

"So then, what were you asking for?" Raven asked softly.

"Oh, just boring political things. What have you been doing?" Fíli struggled to change the conversation.

"Well, mostly training. The Els still haven't gotten back. But, I want to hear more about your meeting!" Raven insisted. Fíli tried not to grimace at the return of her attention to politics.

"Well, it really wasn't that interesting." he diverted as he walked Raven back towards the smial, where Dís and Dwalin had both emerged.

"You know you're a bad liar right?" Raven looked unflinchingly up at him and Fíli blinked in surprise.

"Oh really?" he chuckled.

"Uh-huh." she nodded.

"Am not." Fíli argued, pausing and crossing his arms over his chest as he looked down at his stubborn cousin.

"Well, at least you are when you lie to me." Raven returned, and Fíli felt his lips twisting. Kíli had told him the same thing and he rarely managed to deceive Dís, Thorin, or even Dwalin. The people who cared for him all seemed impossible to deceive. He supposed he should have expected Raven to fall into that category.

"Simply because Fíli returns, doesn't mean that you can abandon your studies." Dís scolded, sweeping up to them.

"I'm sorry, Aunt Dís." Raven dropped her gaze for a moment before sneaking a glance at the dwarrowdam. Dís continued to glare. Fíli knew that his  _amad_ was not truly upset, but she certainly did look stern.

"Next time, you'll know better." Dís said, causing Raven to drop her gaze again.

"I just wanted to see my cousin." Raven murmured.

"And why should that take precedence over your studies?"

"She can come and see me, family above all, isn't it?" Fíli interrupted Dís, who shot him a glare for giving away the answer to her question.

"You  _do_  say that, Aunt Dís." Raven interjected.

"Very well, this time, but now you've greeted him and seen him and you can catch up again after you've finished your studies." Dís insisted.

"Go finish up, I'll be here when you're done." Fíli promised with a wink. Shooting him a broad smile, Raven turned and headed back towards the table that she'd abandoned.

"She missed you." Dís commented, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I didn't expect  _negotiations_ ," Fíli spat the word, "to take so long."

"And you have neither prisoners nor heads." Dís pointed out, causing Fíli to scowl further.

"They refused to give in to our demands." he crossed his arms over his chest. "I have told them that they can comply by the end of the week. Else wise, an attack on our princess will be considered an attack on our people."

"You did  _what_?" Dís demanded as Dwalin stood straighter and took a step forward.

"I said that they could hand over the guilty or else we'd go to war with them." Fíli replied, meeting his  _Amad_ 's gaze unflinchingly.

"That was-"

"Exactly what you demanded of me, what you expected. You might not like to admit it, but there was no other option." Fíli cut off Dís's protest. "They are fat fools of hobbits, they care not about what is happening. They would have fed me until I was lulled into compliancy. That is how they conduct their politics. I was not in the mood. When I failed to reason with them then, aye, I gave them an ultimatum. I refuse, however, to feel guilt for my actions. I am your Crown Prince, and though I value your advice as my  _amad_ , you answer to me. I made a decision and you will abide by it."

"You're growing more like him each and every day." Dwalin broke in and Fíli turned to glance at the warrior. "Thorin."

"I know." Fíli dismissed the warrior's clarification.

"Of course you do." Dwalin grunted. "Come, you're tense and in need of sparring. If you've just declared us to be war-ready then you'd best get in a few more hours at the training field."

"I have other business I should-"

"Train." Dís cut Fíli off. "I'll see to it that a raven is sent to inform Thorin. Those elves have already been away nearly a week, Bilba will already know the news about Raven. She should be on her way back already actually, they said they were going to fetch her after all. Still, Dwalin is right, you need to be training. You cannot afford to get weak now." Fíli glared at Dís and Dwalin, but neither budged. Grumbling, he pivoted on his heel, heading for the training field.

* * *

"Wherever your mind is, pause and focus." Fíli blinked back to the present and his sparring session with Dwalin.

"I'm not in the mood." he grumbled, moving to sheathe his twin swords. They had been dueling for nigh on two hours now. He was tired and still feeling over-fed from his meeting with the hobbit dignitaries.

"You think I care?" Dwalin fixed him with a hard glare before knocking one of his blades from his slack grasp. "I don't and neither will your enemies."

"I told you, I'm not in the mood." Fíli glared at the older dwarf.

"You need to keep training. If you don't, how do you expect to be able to fight any foe?" Dwalin demanded.

"I know how to fight." Fíli retorted.

"Perhaps, but you'll do no one any good if you let yourself get lax." Dwalin swung one of his axes at Fílis remaining sword. The prince leaped back, avoiding the blow and then stooped to pick up his other precious blade.

"We're done for the day, Dwalin." he insisted, only to feel the hard contact of the butt of a hammer with his backside.

"Never turn your back to an enemy." Dwalin growled.

"You're not. You're a guard." Fíli spat, but immediately wished he could take the words back.  _What,_ he demanded of himself, _possessed me to say that to Dwalin of all people._ Fíli had always wanted to be Thorin. Dwalin, however, had been a part of his life for nearly as long. There was no question either about how much he looked up to his mentor.

"Fíli!" he winced as Dís's sharp reprimand cut across the morning air. "Come." Dís stood behind him, glaring. Silently, Fíli sheathed his blades and stomped after her, as though he was still a dwarfling. She led him to the building that they now shared.

It was little more than four walls and a roof, but their tents fit inside to give them the illusion of privacy. When Thorin and Kíli arrived, there would be space for them as well. There were several other such buildings, though for now this one gave them privacy. He had barely spent more than a few nights in it before he'd left on his diplomatic mission, but already he hated it.

"You're still upset about Raven." Dís said, without preamble as soon as they were inside.

"She's fine." Fíli heard himself reply dully as he fought the urge to pace.

"She is worried about you." Fíli's head snapped up, his gaze meeting hers. They were dwarrow, even in the gloom, they had good eyesight and he could read the truth of it in her gaze.

"You said she was studying and she seems entirely recovered." Fíli thought back to his cousin's healed cheek and bright enthusiasm.

"Her wounds are, yes, but not her fears. The world, this world, was safe for her. Now, it is not. She is concerned for her  _Amad_ , for us and, especially for you. She hasn't had many loved ones before. Now, she has all of us and she prefers to worry about us rather than herself. She might be a child, but she's not naive. She wants to know why you left. She's scared that she disappointed you, that she's the reason you left, rather than me, Dwalin, or anyone else. She didn't just leave her studies to welcome you back. She did it because she's been scared that you were gone for good. She hasn't said it, but if you watch her you can tell. She thinks you were disappointed by her. She had to see that you came back, that you acknowledged her and treated her the same. She wouldn't believe it until she saw with her own eyes. She's still scared too, like she's waiting for an axe to fall." Dís tracked his movements.

"She's not scared." Fíli replied automatically, "she was the same as ever."

"Was she?" Dís challenged, and Fíli paused, frowning.

"Yes." he replied, though he hesitated a little longer. Had Raven seemed too enthusiastic? Perhaps more hesitant when it came to her responses? More careful? He couldn't remember now.

"She's good at hiding it, but you need to talk to her. You've been tip-toeing around her since the attack anyways and she's noticed." Dís said and then she turned to the exit of the hut. "Oh, and tell her also that the elves are expected to return with her Ma tomorrow. Also, we've just had word that Thorin has been spotted by Imladris. He should be here within the fortnight." Dís added over her shoulder, causing Fíli to freeze.

"I thought you didn't know anything." he protested.

"We had a raven, it's why I came to the training fields." She replied. He opened his mouth to demand why he was responsible for telling Raven, but she shook her head, stopping him. Fíli had always prided himself in understanding his family but, as Dís left, he felt disconnected.  _Not to mention I now have the task of informing Raven that she's about to have two parents back._ He hoped that such news would be easy to give but,  _obviously,_  he thought,  _I need to start with just talking to Raven._

* * *

 

Once Fíli made up his mind he rarely wasted time. That was how he found himself waiting for Raven to emerge from the smial without any plan of what he was going to say. They needed talk, that much was obvious, but what he could say, he wasn't sure.

Fíli knew that she would be inside. Raven was, self-taught for all intents and purposes. Bilba had taught her daughter to read. So, using books from the Lord Elrond's library, Raven educated herself. Raven spent several hours reading every day. She also studied so that, when asked, she could recite the information to Bilba. That was currently what Raven was working on, that was easy to guess. How this conversation might transpire, however, was unknown. Usually, Fíli knew, or at least guessed.

The door opened, and Fíli straightened. Raven caught sight of him almost immediately. This time, however, he registered the moment of uncertainty before a smile broke across her features.

"Fíli!" she exclaimed.

"I was wondering if you might want to spend the afternoon with your favorite cousin?" he invited, aware of how she still seemed almost apprehensive of him.

"Of course." she nodded, and he held out an arm to her.

"Want to go for a walk?" he asked, "we don't have to go far." he added hastily, afraid that the suggestion would remind her of their last venture.

"I know I'm safe when I'm with you." Raven paused, turning to look at him.

"I'm glad you still feel that way." Fíli admitted.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Well, because last time, I let you down." Fíli began as they walked. Raven was indeed unsure around him. He hated it. He hated that she was afraid and he hated that Dís had known when he had not. He never wanted his cousin to be afraid, not when she was with him. It wasn't right.

"But you didn't. You saved me. You had to because I couldn't save myself." Raven looked down, and Fíli was glad that they had, at least, made it as far as the edge of the yard.

"Raven, look at me." he stopped them, and reached out, cupping her small face. "You don't have a responsibility to save yourself. You have a responsibility to be a child, and to grow up. I have the responsibility of keeping you safe. You haven't disappointed me or Dís or Dwalin or any other dwarrow. You fought your assailants. You were beating me at our race. You've trained hard. You've excelled at your studies. That's all exactly what we expect of you, to grow and to learn." Raven's eyes welled with tears, and without hesitating, Fíli drew her to him. Thin arms wrapped automatically around him, and for a long while they stood like that.  _Becoming a cousin_ , Fíli reflected,  _isn't easy._  He could only imagine how much harder this was going to be for Thorin, who was becoming a father.  _Though,_  Fíli also acknowledged,  _it feels almost as though I've become a father to Raven as well._

"So, what will happen to the hobbits?" Raven drew back, and Fíli paused.

"Well, if they were dwarrow, then they would have paid for their crimes with their beards and their lives." Fíli decided to answer truthfully, watching as Raven's eyes widened in horror.

"But why?" she whispered.

"All dwarrow know, assaulting a dwarrowdam is one of the worst crimes that anyone can commit. You know that our womenfolk are few. Therefore, our society expects that they are treated with the utmost respect. Fighting or abusing any dwarf is responded to harshly. Doing so to dwarrowdams and children, however, are a particular crime." Fíli explained.

"But they're hobbits." Raven pointed out. "And," she whispered, "I don't want anyone to die because of me."

"Well, it's true, they aren't dwarrow so, we would not treat them quite the same. However, we would like them to be punished. We'd do it publicly too because you are not only a female and a child, you are our princess. You see, if we do not respond as your kin and because you are royalty then others will perceive us as weak. Do you understand?" Raven bit her lip as she thought about what he said.

"I think so."

"Well then, there's something else I need to talk to you about." Raven looked up at him with wide eyes. Before he could say anything else, however, they heard another voice shouting her name.

"Raven!" Her head whipped in the direction of the voice. Fíli followed, and they both fixed their gazes on where a hobbit, with long dirty blonde hair, raced towards them.

"Ma!" Raven exclaimed, then she took off towards Bilba. Fíli smiled as the two met, clinging tightly to each other. Slowly, he began walking back. He had been so focused on how to tell Raven that Bilba was coming that he hadn't prepared himself to face her yet.

"Did you warn her?" Dís asked, appearing almost magically at Fíli's side.

"No." he glanced in her direction, "did you warn Dwalin?" Dís looked up at him with a would-be innocent expression.

"Oops." she said, without conviction.

"Fíli." he froze, turning to look at where Bilba had looked away from Raven and now stared directly at him. Swallowing, he stepped away from Dís.

"Bilba," his voice seemed to catch in his throat.

"We need to talk, and I would prefer to do so in private." Bilba declared.


	13. twelve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilba comes home.

**AN:** I'm so sorry for the longer wait time for a chapter! Moving back to university and starting up classes didn't leave me much time to write! Hopefully things settle down, but updates might get a little slower, we'll see! In any case, please read, enjoy, leave kudos and then let me know what you think! :)

* * *

_twelve_

Bilba

* * *

_**Buckland, by the Old Forest** _

_**early November 2958** _

Returning to the smial really was like coming home to Bilba. She had lived there for sixteen years, after all, and even if it had only been a life in exile, it was still a life. She had never intended it to be home. At least not for any stretch of time, but now that it came down to it, she was glad to be back.

Her life had been peaceful in Imladris. She had plenty of time to walk in the gardens and to read in the libraries, and there was never any shortage of good food. In spite of the restful atmosphere, however, she'd never been able to feel truly at peace there. Following her introduction to the Lady Arwen and the revelation about her Ring, Bilba had found very little time for walks or afternoon naps. Instead, she'd become buried at the heart of weighty discussions about future plans and enemy movements. There had been many trying days, yet for some reason, they all seemed to be behind her. Lady Arwen herself refused to leave Bilba's side, no matter how unpleasant Bilba got. Estel and Legolas, and even the Lord Elrond himself followed her example. Slowly then, the negotiations had continued. Indeed, she likely would still be trapped there, seeking the answers to problems far greater than she wished to be a part of, if Fíli's raven hadn't arrived.

Bilba had left the same day. There had been protests, but she ignored them all. Raven had been hurt, had been attacked in spite of the greater protection afforded to her. Already, it had been over a month since she'd seen her daughter. In light of the recent events, Bilba refused to wait any longer. She was going home and that was final. A guard had been sent with her, but she had outpaced them for the last stretch. Likely now, however, they would have arrived at the smial. They knew the way. Estel and Legolas both had refused to allow her to travel alone on the roads. After the two young royals had declared their intentions, the Els had also insisted on joining her guard. Bilba had been in too much of a rush to argue with them about being overprotective. After all, in what world did a hobbit need the protection of three members of royalty? She was just a simple hobbit after all, married to Thorin or not, she did not claim the title of Queen.

Striding away from the smial, and its newly added dwarrow camp, Bilba could hear Fíli's heavy booted strides behind her. She knew that she had to speak to Dwalin as well. Moreover, they would only be the beginning, but Bilba still wasn't ready to have this conversation. Still, Raven had asked it of her because Fíli had become a part of her life. Naturally, Bilba hadn't been able to bear disappointing her, not when Raven had already lived through so much in her short life. During Bilba's absence, Fíli had become her daughter's protector. So, when mother and daughter had tearily broken from each other's embrace, the first thing that Raven had asked about was whether things would be alright with Fíli as well. Bilba had known she couldn't delay the inevitable; she had to talk to Fíli. Then, she'd talk with Dwalin and, when Thorin and the Company arrived, she'd talk to them as well.  _Only after I talk with them all can I truly know if we'll be able to work things out._  Bilba mused to herself, hoping that things would go well enough that she didn't have to disappoint Raven again.  _But, just how well do I want things to go?_  she wondered as they continued to walk.  _Will things ever truly return to how they used to be?_  In Bilba's heart, she doubted it.

Behind her, Fíli's steps made Bilba feel both comforted and nervous all at once.  _He is grown now_ , she reflected,  _grown up just as Thorin and I imagined he would be._  Bilba stumbled a step, feeling the breath forced from her lungs. The implications of her side thought were many. The grass beneath her feet was soft and relatively even, but the mere memory of Thorin caused her to trip. She had forced herself for so long to stop remembering the Company because it hurt too much. Out of nowhere, however, those thoughts had returned.  _Well, perhaps not out of nowhere,_  Bilba conceded, thinking about the dwarf behind her. Still, that last thought had felt so natural. Bilba's stomach twisted uncomfortably as she fought to quell the feeling.

"Bilba," she paused, turning back to regard Fíli. He had stopped walking and she realized that they had passed far beyond earshot and sight of even Raven.

"I'm sorry, I was caught up in my thoughts." Bilba whispered, nervously twisting the soft cloth of the traveling tunic that the elves had given her. She twisted the fabric around her fingers as she tried to calm her rising nerves.

"Don't be." Fíli insisted, and Bilba dropped his gaze, unable to look into his Durin-blue gaze.

"But I am." Bilba insisted softly. "I betrayed you, all of you. You trusted me, but I betrayed that."

"Is that what you think? What you've thought this whole time?" Fíli asked softly. Bilba looked about, desperate not to make eye contact with him; unable to stomach his disappointment in her.

"Well, it  _is_  true. What Thorin said that day, he had every right to be angry,"

"No." Fíli interrupted her, taking a step closer so that his boots filled her vision. She flinched as he reached out, taking her hands in his. "No, Bilba, he did not. He had no right to speak to you that way, to say those things, and especially not to  _ever_  lay a hand on you. You were right about Thorin, Bilba. You told us and we didn't listen. He wasn't in his right mind and you were the only one who could spot it. He had the Gold Sickness, Bilba, and we couldn't see it.

"We promised to protect him and to protect you, we even knew to be cautious of the gold but it blinded us. I believe that it even held sway over us because how else could we have abandoned you? We all promised to protect you, and those weren't empty vows. Indeed, you know that when Thorin made his vows, we made ours as well. We named you as our kin, not something that we do lightly but then we betrayed you. All you have ever done was try to save us, mostly even from ourselves. We can never repay that debt." Fíli dropped her hands, sinking to his knees in front of her and drawing a dagger. In her chest, Bilba's heart raced in panic.

"So, as a token of my regret, I offer you-"

"Stop!" Bilba shrieked, cutting Fíli off as he raised the blade to his beard. Fíli hesitated at her interruption and Bilba reached out, grabbing his hands before he had the chance to do ought else. "Don't you dare cut your beard. I know what it means, and I don't want it."

"I understand." Fíli recoiled, his expression suddenly becoming a reserved mask. "I apologize for our intrusion then, if it is your wish, we will depart ere the eve is over." Bilba's eyes widened in horror.

"I didn't mean that I don't forgive you!" she exclaimed, wringing her hands in her desperation to remedy her erroneous directive.

"Then what did you mean?" Fíli asked in cautious confusion.

"Well, obviously, we both have a lot to say. Things have happened between us, I won't deny that we must resolve them, but I don't want your beard. I want your words. What goes on here I believe need only be between us, not the rest of the world. There have been wrongs, on both sides. If I am to resolve matters, however, with you and the rest of the company, I would prefer not to go bald for my efforts." Bilba replied, feeling proud of her logic. Fíli paused, eyeing her with some suspicion.

"Very well." he agreed tentatively, "we will speak. If, however, you have any hesitations afterwards, then I insist that you let it be my honour to present you with my beard." Fíli countered.

"Agreed." Bilba finally acquiesced, regarding the dwarf before her and knowing that his pride would not allow him to do any less.

"I must begin then by begging you to name that which I might do to reattain your graces. I have betrayed you by breaking my vow to always provide you with my protection as my kinswoman. Moreover, I turned away from you who is my rightful Queen, betraying my station and my kin both. You were undeserving of my judgement and betrayal." Fíli began, and Bilba listened carefully.

Fíli's prose were formal, and Bilba almost wanted to frown at his words, but she forced herself not to. He was no longer the little rascal she had journeyed with, and she would have to remember that.  _I'm not the same either,_  she reminded herself. As she listened, however, she could not help but feel that it should be her begging for his forgiveness. Not the other way around.

"First of all, there were wrongdoings on both sides. There was miscommunication and the resulting actions hurt the both of us. However, we cannot take back our actions nor will it do any good to discuss the issue of blame. As for how I might request you to prove your intentions, I want you to keep looking after Raven. I want you to promise her a safe and happy home with you should she ever want or need it. Moreover, I wish you would give me your word that you will do better by her than you did with me. If you can promise me that, then we will be fine." Bilba met Fíli's gaze, letting him read the certainty in her gaze.

"If there is ought else that I might do to reclaim your trust, you have but to ask it." Fíli bowed deeply to her.

"I will consider that, but now I must ask what can I do to prove to you how repentant I am for betraying you." Bilba returned.

"You have done nothing that warrants such forgiveness." Fíli replied solemnly.

"I doubt that is actually true." Bilba fixed him with a stern look that used to make the dwarf quail.

"I can assure you, we owe you our lives, Bilba. There is naught else that you could do to prove your loyalty. Even in the face of our abandonment, you stayed loyal to us. Dwarrow do not forget such loyalty." Fíli assured her and although Bilba nodded, she could not fully bring herself to trust what he was telling her.

"I find I must ask, Bilba, what happened? What do you know of Erebor since we reclaimed it? Clearly, you do not trust us, and with good reason, but I would ask what tidings I might give you to help allay your fears." Fíli suggested and Bilba considered his offer. There was no denying that she wanted to know more. However, Bilba also feared what the answers to her questions might reveal.

"I suppose we might begin with such tidings." Bilba finally agreed, and Fíli nodded carefully. "Tell me, what tidings do you bear?"

"Uncle is on his way, Bilba. We told him that you were alive, and of Raven and he insisted on coming." Fíli announced and Bilba swallowed.

She had heard the rumors of a dwarrow party nearing Imladris. Bilba had even suspected who might be amongst them. Still, she had become too distracted by Fíli's news of Raven's attack to focus on the group's nearness.

"Might I ask you, what you've heard of Uncle?" Bilba swallowed past the growing lump in her throat at the thought of Thorin.

"I haven't heard from him." Bilba replied honestly. "Gandalf visited, some months ago now, it was the first time that I saw him and the first that I heard of Thorin or Erebor." she continued, when Fíli insisted on waiting.

"So then, you know you've been officially pardoned and named Queen?" Fíli asked carefully.

"Aye. Gandalf told me, I was pardoned and named, but both posthumously," Bilba trailed off.

"You stayed for the battle." It wasn't a question.

"Aye."

"We didn't realize you were there, at least not at first. You warned Kíli and I. Then, Thorin was sure he'd heard you and that was too much to be coincidence. So, Dwalin began to search. We found your coat. It was cut and bloodied, but there were no signs of you. We scoured the healing tents, and we begged that anyone come forward with information. No one did. We knew from the coat that you had been wounded and there had been many pyres." Bilba's stomach flopped uncomfortably, aware of the implications.

"So you assumed I'd succumbed to my wounds and been burned anonymously." she forced herself to voice the concern when Fíli failed to finish.

"Aye." A heavy silence filled the space between them.

"So, Thorin forgave me." Bilba finally said, glancing across at Fíli.

"There has never been any doubt about that. You saved all of our lives. You're not just forgiven, you're a hero. You made sure that Erebor was retaken and that her King and Princes survived. Without you, we all would have died in that battle, you were our guardian angel, protecting us." Fíli responded, and Bilba blinked back tears.

"I didn't do that much-"

"You did." he stepped forward, grasping her arm. "You delayed our immediate battle with the elves and the men of Laketown. You stopped them from murdering us. Then, you gave us warnings. You drew our attention when we were distracted from our immediate peril. Up on the hill, I would have walked into a trap in that tower. What's worse, I would have led Kíli and eventually Thorin and Dwalin in after me. Your bird calls, they distracted us, they kept us away long enough to hear the orcs, and then to retreat. You stopped us at personal risk to yourself. We never had a chance to thank you, nor did we even fully realize that it was you."

"Well, what else could I have done? I'm just a hobbit, and you, you are important dwarrow. Your people needed you, and even if we were no longer friends, I still loved you. All of you fools! I couldn't live with myself if I watched you die. Moreover, you needed to survive that battle, for the sake of Erebor and her people." Bilba lost her vehemence, "I could help you with that, so I did." Bilba she finished with a little shrug, and Fíli laughed softly.

"The most incredible thing about you is that you don't realize how important you are, how special you are. You are not 'just a hobbit,'" he moved closer to her, taking her hands. "You, Bilba Baggins, are our queen, the hero of Erebor, mother of that amazing little girl. You chronically underestimate your value, Bilba Baggins."

"I didn't know I was pregnant." Bilba blurted, and Fíli blinked.

"What do you mean?" Fíli asked softly.

"When I joined the battle? I didn't know that I was expecting. I know how important children are to you, and I didn't intentionally jeopardize Raven." Bilba explained.

"I never had any doubt of that." Fíli replied at once. "Though, why have you stayed here? It's hardly an ideal environment."

"It's not the best, but for the most part we have enough food and Raven was safe from the hobbits, I made it so." Bilba shrugged, "I've thought multiple times about leaving, but I couldn't bring myself to actually do it. I was afraid that doing so would have moved Raven into a more public sphere. I didn't know that you forgave me, that I wasn't wanted by dwarrow for being a traitor, until September. I thought for sure that even if I went to the elves then, Raven would become a pawn in a power struggle. Lord Elrond and his elves have been friends to us, but to have a daughter of Durin under their very roof? I could not risk the chance that they would use her against Thorin, not when I didn't know if he would even accept her."

"I am sorry." she looked up at Fíli, unaware that she had dropped his gaze in the first place.

"For what?" she frowned.

"For ever making you harbor such doubts." Fíli responded.

"You could hardly control that." Bilba shrugged.

"I can still be sorry." he insisted.

"And so can I." she met his gaze. "I have stayed hidden, avoiding all tidings of you. I ran with Raven and, because of my decisions, I have caused all of us hurt."

"You did what you thought was best, Bilba. You put your daughter's future first. None of us will fault you for that." Fíli assured her.

"But are you sure that Thorin think that? He's her  _adad_ , and I've robbed him of knowing and raising her." Bilba asked softly, before she could stop herself.

"I suppose we'll know for sure ere long." Fíli replied quietly.

"I suppose we will." Bilba bit her lip nervously as she considered the future ahead of them.  _Will Thorin really be accepting? After all of this time, won't he likely be_ _more upset? We've not been lovers for far longer than we ever were,_  Bilba reflected with growing apprehension.

"Bilba," Fíli began, breaking her reverie, and she turned to look at him. He stopped himself, however, pausing for so long that Bilba turned to look suspiciously at him.

"What are you thinking?" she finally demanded.

"Have you ever heard of a One?"

"No." Bilba frowned.

"I see." Fíli said cautiously.

"What is it?" Bilba insisted.

"Well, I'm not sure that I should be the one to explain it." Fíli hesitated.

"Because it would have been Thorin's place?" Bilba concluded.

"Aye." Fíli nodded.

"Well, he hasn't explained it." Bilba reminded him pointedly.

"Indeed." Fíli sighed, rubbing a hand over his face and looking suddenly both older and more tired to Bilba. "Very well. It's not the way that things should happen, but you have a right to know." Fíli fixed her with a serious glance. "What I'm about to tell you, Bilba, is sacred within the dwarrow culture. You already know that we prize our secrecy, our languages and rites. You've heard Khuzdul, and we would have taught you if we had the time, but this we wouldn't have said anything about. When Thorin fell in love with you, it became his choice if he spoke to you of the way that dwarrow love. For whatever reasons, he did not. However, given how things have gone, watching you, and hearing all of Raven's questions, I believe that I am not wrong in thinking you still love him too. He's hurt and betrayed you, and you cannot trust him, but you still love him." Bilba's mouth went dry. She did not like hearing that Thorin had kept even more secrets, but what Fíli said was true. She did still love Thorin, in spite of what had gone on between them.

"I understand Fíli, and I won't say anything to anyone else." Bilba said solemnly.

"The conversation of Ones is very private. Usually it's taught by a dwarf's  _amad_  to their child at a young age and then shared only between the Couple." Fíli began, and Bilba clung to each and every word. "The myth says that, when Mahal shaped the dwarrow, he could not complete them. He claimed it was because he himself could not imagine being whole without Yavanna at his side. She was his One Companion, without whom the world could not possibly feel right. Therefore, we call them Ones because Yavanna was Mahal's One. We seek our Ones throughout our lifetimes, Bilba. We look for the other being who will make our worlds right. Few dwarrow, however, ever succeed in finding their One."

"How few?" Bilba whispered, the words catching in her throat as her stomach sank in anticipation.

"Perhaps, at most, half of the dwarrowdams?" Fíli replied hesitantly.

"That's what Thorin should have told me, that I was his One. That's why our relationship wouldn't have been disputed." Bilba concluded softly.

"Aye." Fíli agreed.

"He told you?" Bilba frowned, looking up.

"When you first came out as Courting. Dwalin, Balin and I knew, none of the others." Fíli replied.

"But he still hurt me," Bilba paused.

"He did."

"It was the gold sickness. I know, but I still have nightmares from that day, Fíli. I still remember what it felt like to have his hands wrapped around my throat." Bilba confessed. "How can I let him be around Raven? My Raven, when he's done that to me?"

"The gold sickness, it is gone, Bilba. It has never resurfaced." Fíli promised once more.

"Perhaps," Bilba hesitated. The sickness was gone, it had only been there when she was there; only there when she had the Ring.

While in councils in Imladris, Bilba had been warned that the Ring would affect those around her. Lord Elrond had shown his own surprise because she had not been overly affected by the Ring.  _Perhaps, I was not so unaffected as I once assumed_ , Bilba realized, her stomach sinking further.

"Bilba?" Fíli frowned.

"It's nothing." she waved him off.

"I know you better than to believe that." he replied, but before he could push they heard the sound of hooves on the road. Bilba turned to look in surprise as a hobbit appeared, riding fast towards them.

"Crown prince Fíli?" Bilba didn't recognize the hobbit who leapt from the saddle.

"Aye." Fíli responds.

"I've come with word from the Master of Buckland, the Thain and the Mayor. The prisoners will be delivered to you. Their lives are yours to do with as you see fit. The Shire looks forward to furthered peaceful negotiations and trading with Erebor and her allies." the hobbit said and Bilba shot Fíli a questioning glance. Fíli pointedly refused to look back at her.

"Thank you. You may tell your Master, Thain, and Mayor that Erebor looks forward to a peaceful future with the Shire." Fíli said. The hobbit bowed once more, and then remounted and was gone.

"The prisoners?" Bilba pressed as Fíli took a deep breath and then turned to face her.

"The hobbits responsible for attacking Raven." he admitted. "I demanded that they be given to us."

"Given to you for what purpose?" Bilba was proud at the calmness in her voice, because inwardly she was anything but calm.

"Because in dwarrow society, to lay a hand on Raven with those intentions would mean you forfeit your life." Bilba's jaw clenched and she closed her eyes. She just barely stopped herself from blurting something that she'd likely come to regret.

"And is that what you mean to do with these hobbits given into your care?" she asked carefully.

"For their leader, yes, for the rest they will suffer and publicly, but perhaps not die. These punishments are not in according to the ways of hobbits. I understand, but I will not hesitate to protect Raven. She is my kin and my Princess. The world will do better to fear what might happen to them if they dare to ever try hurting her again." Fíli said, his eyes hard, and for a moment Bilba thought that he resembled Thorin.

"You're talking of murdering hobbits. How did you even get their lives handed over to you? Hobbits are not violent, death is never a punishment, never." Bilba demanded, her own eyes sparking. Certainly, though she might not like them, she could adopt dwarrow traditions. That, however, was only when it applied to dwarrow. Fíli was about to prosecute a hobbit as though he acted with the awareness of a dwarf. Though she hated those responsible for hurting Raven, death seemed extreme.

"I gave them an ultimatum. Give me the hobbits of go to war with Erebor. Thorin will agree with me too, Bilba, and you know it. He would kill all those involved with his bare hands to keep Raven and you safe. What I am proposing is much more lenient."

"Not for hobbits it's not!" Bilba protested. "You cannot simply come in here and apply foreign punishments, that surely is folly!"

"What I will do is whatever it takes to see you and Raven, my family, safe. If it means taking the life of one criminal, or even of a dozen, then I will not hesitate." Fíli growled, glaring at Bilba until she had to fight not to recoil.

"Don't let Raven know." Bilba finally conceded. "I don't want my child aware of what lengths we go to in order to ensure her safety. The world is a cruel place, but she doesn't need the weight of their punishment on her shoulders. Not yet."

"I'm afraid I can't agree to that." Fíli said, and Bilba frowned. "Not because you demand something unreasonable. Rather, because she already knows I sought proper punishment for them. I told her the truth of what would happen if they were dwarrow. I wanted to impress upon her that she should never take such behavior as acceptable." Fíli explained.

"Well, I cannot have you suddenly go back and reverse time as much as I might wish such a feat were possible. So, fine, but leave the matter there." Bilba sighed wearily.

"I am sorry that we've had to make decisions without you here." Fíli offered.

"You've done what you believe is best for Raven, and I can't ask any more than that." Bilba replied, though she couldn't help but feel a little pang of guilt. Raven was her daughter, and she wanted to be the one making the decisions about her education. It was protective mother in her, but she wanted Raven all to herself. She supposed also that she had only ever had Primula's opinions to contend with. Even then, they had been of the same opinion when it came to how raising Raven.  _Now,_  Bilba expected, _Raven's future is no longer only in my hands. Fíli and Dís and Thorin and Kíli will no doubt want to be a part of raising Raven, and who am I to deny them their privilege?_

"Things are going to change, for Raven I mean and we need to be on the same page. I want her to be able to turn to you and Dís and Kíli and even Thorin when he gets here. But, I also don't want her to be receiving confused information. She's still young. She needs us to be united to give her guidance and instruction, not divided." Bilba announced.

"In that, we are agreed." Fíli sighed. "I know, things won't be easy between us, not at first. We have history, I'll acknowledge that. I would ask, indeed I feel I must ask, are you willing to try, at least for Raven's sake, to put the past aside? I know I cannot possibly ask you to mend things with Thorin, but he knows now that he has a child, a daughter. He raised Kíli and me. He was essentially our father, and he can be stern, even harsh sometimes. He loved us as his own children, however, and I believe that he deserves to be a part of Raven's life too."

"You don't have to convince me, Fíli, not about Thorin's rights. I never wanted to separate him from Raven. I just wasn't ready to give her up myself. I thought that so long as he didn't know then he couldn't order that I give her up." Bilba replied.

"Thorin would never do that." Fíli argued vehemently.

"Perhaps, but I didn't know that, at least not before." Bilba defended herself and Fíli gave her a silent nod of acknowledgement. A silence fell between them, and Bilba's sensitive ears picked up the sound of cursing.

"The hobbits are here. I can hear voices. Go and make sure Raven doesn't see them." Bilba said quickly and Fíli frowned.

"I'd forgotten how sharp your ears were." Fíli commented off-handedly.

"And, I'd forgotten how deaf you lot were." Bilba smiled, and after Fíli returned the gesture, they headed back for the smial. It was odd, Bilba thought, to be so familiar and yet to still feel like there was a gaping chasm between them. They hurried back, intending to usher Raven inside, out of sight of the arriving hobbits. There might still be a lot to be hoped for when it came to mending her relationships with Fíli and with Dwalin, whom she had yet to talk with. All of that paled, however, in comparison to her need to whisk Raven away before the hobbits arrived.

"Raven!" Bilba cried as she arrived in the clearing, only to freeze. Dwalin and Dís stood opposite Legolas and Aragorn, the Els standing between them. Apparently, the twins were trying to placate the two parties, but it didn't seem to be going well. Neither Raven nor Primula appeared present, and Bilba cursed under her breath.

"That's the elvin king's son." Fíli spat, glaring at the silver-haired elf.

"Legolas is my friend and here to see me returned safely and to look after Raven." Bilba defended. "We have hobbits to attend to though, and we do not need any more fighting." she fixed the young Durin prince with a pointed glare.

"Fine." Fíli agreed hesitantly, and together they descended towards the warring groups.

"Bilba," Aragorn began.

"We're all friends here. Moreover, you're all here as my guests, and I expect no fighting." Bilba declared.

"Of course, my queen." for the first time, Bilba turned and truly surveyed her sister-in-law. Dís was striking, very similar to Thorin, and for a moment Bilba felt a rush of pain at the thought of him.

"Please, I'm just Bilba. I'm not a queen. Not until Thorin," her breath caught in her throat and it felt as though the passageway closed up. "Not until Thorin and I talk."

"He named you Queen, Lassie, so our queen you shall be unless he and you both declare it different." Bilba turned to look at Dwalin for the first time. He too was older, though he seemed no less strong. His hair was white and thinner. He still glared, however, and crossed his arms, baring his forearms in a manner as threatening as ever.

"Dwalin," Bilba nodded in his direction, "we'll talk later, but as I've just told Fíli, I would like things to work out. Especially for Raven's sake, it's important I believe and I intend to make things work."

"Aye, Lassie, we'll talk." Dwalin nodded.

"Where's Raven though? We're expecting visitors whom I'd rather not let her see." Bilba asked.

"She's inside, with Primula. Things got a little tense, and we didn't want her to bear witness." Legolas replied carefully.

"Good." Bilba agreed. "I need to speak with my daughter, now that Fíli and I have reached an accord. However, I expect no fighting between any of you. When I've finished with Raven, and our guests are taken care of then, Dwalin we'll speak." She didn't wait for a response as she turned and headed into the smial. Raven and Primula were preparing food, unsurprisingly. Bilba automatically went to their side. She noted the increased abundance and variety of food, but did not mention it. Fíli and Dís were both here, surely they had brought supplies to augment their poor pantry.

"So, Ma, what happened?" Raven asked, and Bilba took a deep breath. She would not tell Raven everything. However, it would do no harm to occupy her daughter with tales of Imladris while they waited for Fíli to see to his captives.


	14. thirteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Company reforms.

**AN:**  Hi all! Thanks for the awesome support! It does motivate me to keep working! Sorry the updates might be a bit slower now that classes are under way. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this one! Not too much action, but well, He's finally here :D Please let me know what you think of things .. also totally open to suggestions for what you want to see in the future! I've really only planned up through a few more chapters :) Happy reading!

* * *

_thirteen_

Thorin

* * *

 

_**en Route to the Shire** _

_**early November 2958** _

Thorin always prided his people for their loyalty. When Dwalin's message had arrived, Thorin had stormed out of his Small Council Meeting. He had of course intended to leave for the Shire alone. He shouldn't have been at all surprised, however, when the entire Company showed up. He had paused just long enough to send a message off to Dáin. In it, he begged with no uncertainty for his cousin to come and take charge of Erebor in his absence. Then, he had changed from his royal robes into his traveling tunic and coat. He had gathered the necessary rations and a bedroll and been out the door. Or well, tried to be out the door. He'd still been in the courtyard, arguing with a groom about mounts when the rest of the Company had arrived. It hadn't taken a genius to realize the mastermind behind the delay. Balin and Oín were the eldest of the Company, and good old Balin wasn't about to see them left behind.

As soon as his advisor had made an appearance, the groom's complaints had ended. Suddenly, there had been enough mounts for all of their party. It was a large party too, Thorin realized as they clattered out of the courtyard. The whole Company was there. Well, all eleven of them seeing as Dwalin and Fíli were already there. Then, additionally Glóin had his son, Gimli, along. His wife Lívói had also stubbornly refused to be left behind while her husband and son went.

"I can fight as well as any soldier." she had declared when Thorin fixed her with a dubious look. He had nodded and then fixed a glare on Bombur. Elsba sat atop a large pony at her One's side. Bombur sat tall and proud in his saddle, silently supporting her decision. Beside her, two young boys shared a pony. Their eldest son, Baldur, could be no more than thirty. His younger brother had been a babe when they left on their Quest. Therefore, he had to be sixteen at youngest, and twenty at oldest.

"This is no place for children." Thorin declared cooly.

"With all due respect, your majesty, we are journeying to retrieve your own bairn. Perhaps, she might like some youthful company? Some other dwarrow children to help her adjust?" Elsba said, her head held high as she met Thorin's gaze.

"They won't slow us, Thorin, no more than Oín and I will slow you, but you wouldn't dare dream of leaving us behind now, would you?" Balin had interjected on behalf of the boys. Thorin in turn had glared at his advisor, but agreed nevertheless with a non-verbal grunt. He had mounted his own steed, and thus led his Company of sixteen dwarrow and a dozen guards from the courtyard. He didn't look back.

* * *

Traveling should have felt freeing. Thorin had expected it to be what with the relatively small traveling group. They made good timing. It was nice too to be living simply, not as their king but merely a leader of a Company. It was odd how being an exiled monarch was so different from being a proper one. He had no heavy bejeweled robes on the road, he wore no crown and, best of all, there were no meeting or other social obligations thrust upon him. At least, not in the way that he had become resigned to. With his steadfast companions, out here on the road, he was simply Thorin. He was still their leader, but he had always been their leader.

At times Thorin still hated the way that his position had distanced him. Since he had become king, only Dwalin dared still spar with him. Even Balin's harsh advice had simmered down and that was to say nothing of the other dwarrow. His previous Companions met him with bows and spoke so formally. At first, it had been nice when they fell back into their old selves. They did not dare to openly disrespect him, but there was no bowing on the road either. They each had tasks to do each night, and he was happy to pull his weight. He knew that their change of behavior was all in deference to him, but it still felt strange. As king, Thorin could no longer walk through a crowd without the conversation ceasing and everyone bowing to him.

What was worse, he could hardly imagine Bilba accepting such a future. She was such a free little thing, she hardly cared for titles or wealth and what was worse, she was a child of the earth. If logic dictated whom he should love and choose to be his Queen it would not be Bilba Baggins. It was not logic though that had made that ultimate decision. It was his heart. So, if he could be the king of Erebor then he could do everything in his power to make Bilba happy. He had to. She was the only thing that mattered to him. He'd spent years trying to reclaim his home, but it was cold and empty without his One and their daughter. Especially cold now that he knew about them.

* * *

As they had ridden away from Dale, Thorin had inexplicably waited for the sense of freedom to descend. It hadn't. He had managed to remain civil with the Elvin King, but they had not lingered. He insisted that wherever possible, they press on. That had, unfortunately, included declining Thranduil's offer to let them stay the night. No one had argued. Instead, Tauriel had skillfully led them through the forest. Commenting only a few times at its progress. Apparently, the Mirkwood was no longer so Mirky, apparently it was now to be the Greenwood. Thorin had to agree it was less gloomy than during their first trip through it, but it still was a far cry from pleasant.

They had crossed then into the Bear's territory. It hadn't taken their host long to appear. The Beorning had challenged him, changing skin to speak with them. Thorin had tersely answered the questions. Part of him had to admit he was surprised that Beorn hadn't killed him and their entire party on sight. After all, the Bear was partial to Bilba; not to them. Perhaps, however, they yet again owed their lives to Bilba. Thorin didn't exactly like the thought. He already owed his hobbit too much, but the Bear did seem to know how much Bilba cared for him. Or had cared for him. Thorin hadn't missed the way that Beorn had said so. She had pined for him on her trip back home.  _So why then did you go?_  he wanted to demand, but she wasn't there to answer. Only his own cynical inner voice.

* * *

All the way across the Misty Mountains Thorin had been in a mood. Kíli yelled at him once for it. He claimed that they were all worried about Bilba, and Thorin had to stop being so self-centered. Thorin hadn't responded well, and the fight that followed had to have been one of their worst. He wanted to say that he was defending himself, that Kíli had attacked him. But that wasn't exactly true. He had lashed out and been unreasonably cruel to Kíli, and it was all because he knew that his nephew was right. He hated what he'd done to Bilba. His self-anguish was getting to him and he'd lashed out at the Company. They hadn't deserved it anymore than she had. Kíli was angry because he hated that he had sided with Thorin. In that terrible moment before the gates of Erebor he had let his love for his uncle blind him. Thorin couldn't blame his nephew for his anger. Before the Quest, before Thorin had fallen to the Gold Sickness, he had been his nephews' hero. He had been the hero of his entire Company. All during the journey they had trusted him and loved him. They had called him King and when he had begun to court Bilba then they had called her Queen. They welcomed her as no outsider had ever been welcomed. Then he had turned on Bilba. He had demanded that they choose between their sworn King and their beloved Queen. It was hardly surprising that in the heat of the moment they'd all chosen him. They had seen Bilba to safety, but they stood with their King because that was what was expected. That was what their culture taught them.

_Oh Bilba_ , Thorin mourned,  _you who, of all of us, was the best_.  _The most innocent._  He had not only turned on her, his One, he had wrapped his fingers about her neck. He had tried to squeeze the life from her, and all the while she had been carrying their child then. Their daughter.

Thorin had a hard time grappling with the knowledge that Bilba was alive. He had even more difficulty imagining his daughter. Still, Bilba was alive, according to Dwalin's missive, and the dwarf would never be so cruel to them. Dwalin knew what Bilba meant to Thorin, and especially to the others. His friend was still angry with him about what transpired but he wouldn't do this. He wouldn't lie.

* * *

Therefore, as they entered the elven valley, Thorin's nerves were at the breaking point. He had spent much of the time since the mountains withdrawing into himself. He seemed to be stuck alternating between periods of guilt, worry, and shame. He had no place, not to be here begging for her forgiveness and certainly not leading them. Or so, he'd tell himself until the wave of longing hit him.  _She was alive! Bilba was alive!_  Every time he told himself that his heart would leap. Then, he'd want to dig his heels into his mount's side and not stop until he saw her again.

"Don't Laddie." Thorin turned to look at where Balin had pressed a hand to his arm.

"Don't what?" Thorin growled.

"Don't go off without us. We're all here for you and for Bilba both. Her and the bairn, you cannot just off and leave us. We've come this way to be with you." Thorin growled under his breath, but he turned back to the Last Homely House. If Balin smiled then, well, Thorin pretended not to notice.

Thorin tried not to glare, but he was fairly certain that he failed. Lately, however, he seemed only ever to be glaring; regardless of if he was speaking to an elf or a dwarf. Throughout the exchange of pleasantries with the Lord Elrond the elf lord was polite, if curt. They were all given rooms and, unlike before, Thorin allowed his Company to take them. Alone in his room, the idea of a hot bath and the going straight to bed was undeniably tempting. Instead, with great reluctance, he forced himself to wash quickly and then go down for dinner. Unlike last time, there was meat on the table. From the way that the elves doted on Bombur's young children, Thorin figured that they could owe them the meat.  _It would appear_ , Thorin reflected,  _that children are a weakness for the elves too. At least, to some elves,_  Thorin's inner voice sneered. There had been plenty of dwarrow children fleeing Erebor, but Thranduil hadn't cared.

"Thorin." he turned to see Balin glancing worriedly in his direction. "You were growling under your breath." his older companion warned.

"Oh." Thorin finally said, rather lamely. "I believe I should take myself to my chambers. We'll leave in the morning, at dawn, the day after tomorrow." he said, pushing back his chair from the table. Balin nodded, courteously with a smile for the sake of their elvish company. Thorin, however, knew his friend better, and he could tell that the dwarf seemed glad that he was leaving.  _Likely_ , Thorin mused,  _he's worried I'll do something to cause irreparable damage in our relationship with the elvish scum._  The worse realization was that Balin wasn't completely wrong in his fears either. Especially given his current state of mind, who knew what Thorin might do or say. He was just in a foul mood and he did not need to impose that on the rest of the Company.

"I wouldn't presume to prevent you from going to your chambers, King Thorin. However, it might interest you to hear tidings from the Shire first?" Thorin was halfway out of his chair when the elf lord spoke. He froze, and then turned slowly to his host.

"The Shire you say?" Thorin was certain that he growled then.

"Indeed. There is nothing emergent anymore, however, and the news can wait. I would be remiss though if I didn't at least mention it to you." Lord Elrond held his gaze with would-be innocence. Knowing that he was trapped and that, once again, the elf lord had won one over him, Thorin sat back down. He was aware of the eyes of his entire Company on him. The desperation that suddenly filled his veins distracted him from their attention.  _Bilba_. Her name filled him with a nervous excitement. The news had to be about Bilba and their daughter.

Thorin had spent many a night contemplating his daughter. He did not know anything about her. He had dreamed of having children once. After he had tried to throw Bilba, his One, from the ramparts of Erebor, however, he had given up on the hopes. They had once dreamed of starting a family together. Now, it was only in his darkest moments that Thorin ever let himself imagine that family.

For the past sixteen years, he had truly believed that Bilba was dead. He had eventually come to the conclusion that his One had been burned anonymously. There had been so many fallen warriors, and the elves and men had both agreed to cremation. The earth was frozen and so they cremated their dead before the carrion could take them. The Company had combed the dwarrow dead. They were separated and gathered to be burried under the stone. They had hoped that Bilba woud be amongst them, mistaken for a dwarf because of he height. She had not. Therefore, they had all been forced to come to the horrible conclusion. Bilba had been with the other dead. She had been burned. Fíli, Kíli, Dwalin and Bofur had held out hope the longest. After even Thorin had sunk into a depression. They still searched, still went in search of the men and elves responsible for the cremations. They had never found out anything, but as the years passed they'd had to accept that Bilba was gone. It stung all of them that she was gone. It added insult to injury that she'd been cremated; a sin amongst dwarrow.

Then, Thorin's hope had been returned in the form of Dwalin's letter. Bilba was alive. He could only ever imagine what that meant because their future would be up to Bilba. Thorin knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. However, he could barely imagine what their life might be like.

For starters, fifteen years had passed. She was a hobbit and had been young by their standards, but now she would be well towards middle age. Even he had to admit that age was beginning to catch up to him. But, even with those slow markers, he would still outlive her by a wide margin.

A future had to assume that, by some miracle, Bilba forgave him for his past actions. After that, if age and lifespan didn't matter then they still had many decisions to make. Thorin worried if Bilba could be happy living in Erebor. She was used to living outdoors, surrounded by plants, not stone. Before, Bilba had expressed some concerns. At the time Thorin had pledged to remedy them as he could. He tried to explain that there were few windows for safety purposes. When she worried about the high walkways without railings he had been forced to stifle his amusement. Bilba's hobbit sensibilities were foreign to him in many ways. They had talked about family, about childhood adventures. Thinking now about what he knew of her habits, Thorin had to admit that his knowledge came from watching her. They had not really discussed what their home and life would be like. They had never broached the subject of her becoming a Queen. If she would even consider such a proposal, Thorin could not say.

"You haven't cared to share these tidings yet, why?" Thorin demanded, glaring blatantly at the elf lord. Every time that he thought he could almost acknowledge Elrond as an equal the elf had to do something like this. Before, it was vegetables and their reliance on him to read the map. Now, it was withholding information about his kin. If the elf wasn't a Lord, Thorin would not have fought so hard to retain his temper. Indeed, things might have gotten violent very fast.

"Please, my lord, this is Bilba we're speaking of. Will you not tell us the tidings? She is kin to me, and I have grieved already too long thinking she was dead." Kíli interjected. Thorin winced at his nephew's wording, but when the elf lord looked to his kin his stern expression softened.

"Bilba was here, up unto a matter of days ago. She was brought in, injured, but made a recovery. She has since left in haste to attend to her daughter. Raven was involved in a fight with some of the hobbits." Elrond announced and Thorin felt his blood run cold.

"A fight concerning hobbits? I thought that they were a peaceable people? Why would they dare do anything with Raven?" Thorin demanded, feeling his dread increase. It was only after his demands had fled his lips that he realized he had uttered his daughter's name for the first time.  _Trust Bilba to name our girl Raven,_  he thought. Perhaps, it was not a suitable name, ravens after all were messengers. then again,  _perhaps that is what makes it so perfect._

"They are usually, however, Bilba was shunned upon her return to the Shire. It means," the elf continued, anticipating their questions, "that she has no standing. The other hobbits will not speak to her. Will not sell or trade with her. And, if anyone commits any crime against her, then she will not exist to be the victim. Raven, is her daughter, and you are not recognized as a hobbit. Indeed, until recently I believe that even Bilba believed Raven to be born out of wedlock." Thorin's gut twisted, and he felt the accusatory glares of more than one dwarf on him. "As you can understand then, it's been a difficult situation. Raven is a grey area, and so I believe that some hobbits wanted to give her trouble. She is fine now. Your kin were there and protected her. However, Bilba still felt guilty for not being there when her daughter needed her." Elrond explained carefully.

"And Bilba herself, was injured how?" Thorin demanded.

"She was kidnapped, from the Shire." Elrond said, however, Thorin noticed the hesitancy in the elf's voice.

"But who'd want to kidnap the lass?" Bofur interjected, and though Thorin shot him a glare, the dwarf refused to back down.

"She said it was dawrrow. They came into the Shire, to her smial, and they took her. She said that she believed they intended to hand her over to servants of the enemy. There were seeking retribution for how you've treated the blooded royals." each of Elrond's words felt like a hammer blow to Thorin. More reasons why he had failed to protect his One and their daughter.

"And the dwarrow responsible, what happened to them?" Thorin demanded.

"One of them died, actually protecting Bilba from the servants of the enemy. We are unsure of the second. He was not found. Bilba had escaped and needed immediate medical attention. My friends who found her, brought her straight here. They did not waste precious time tracking her attackers." Elrond explained.

"The dwarf or dwarrow responsible will pay, very publicly, with their lives." Thorin declared and there were cheers from his company. "Were there any other opportune tidings that you intended to keep from us?" he demanded.

"No." Elrond replied.

"I see. Well, if that is the case, I shall retire early." Thorin stood, already feeling the pounding of an oncoming headache.

"And what about us? When are we riding for the Shire?" Kíli rose behind him.

"As a Company, we need rest." Thorin glanced over at the exhausted figures. Balin and Oín certainly weren't as young as they once had been. Most of the Company were aging as a matter of fact. As much as even he himself wished to say that the weeks of traveling hadn't had an affect on him; they had.

"What we need is to be there, for Bilba and for Raven, our  _kin_!" Kíli slammed a fist down on the table, and the room froze.

"Kíli," Tauriel began.

"No. This is between my uncle and me,  _melamin._ " Kíli stopped her.

"Indeed." Thorin turned back to his nephew. "You want to leave tomorrow?" he demanded, levelling a glare at the younger dwarf.

"Of course I want to leave tomorrow. This is Bilba we're speaking of. She wouldn't, didn't, hesitate to come to our aid. Why should we sit here, relaxing when she is need of ours? We've waited years to see her again. Years that you cost us!" Kíli's voice kept increasing as he grew more and more agitated. "Or, perhaps, you want us to wait because you're afraid! You're our King, you're supposed to be fearless, you're supposed to know what's right!" Kíli's mouth opened, as though he was going to continue, but words seemed to fail him.

Inwardly, Thorin felt a great shame. Kíli was right. He was supposed to be better, and yes, he was afraid to see Bilba again. Afraid that she would reject him. Afraid that he would be forced to live without his One, knowing that she was alive. He had wronged her before, and how could he possibly ever atone for his actions.

"If the rest of the Company feels rested enough to leave in the morning then we will depart. If anyone needs the day then, we will all take it without any ill will." Thorin looked around seeing the indecision on so many of his Company's faces. "Am I understood?"

"I'm leaving in the morning." Kíli glared.

"I am your King and I am telling you that we will be together whether we leave in the morning or the morning the day after. That's an order." Thorin replied.

"Of course, your Majesty. I'll take it under advisement." Kíli spat. For a moment Thorin contemplated setting him straight. He pictured marching back to demand that his nephew obey him. Instead, he turned on his heel and left the room. Kíli was mad, and he had every right to be. Thorin didn't think though that he would leave. Not alone.

* * *

The next morning found the whole party seated once more on their mounts. Balin had come by late the night before to tell Thorin that they had decided to continue immediately. He had agreed with his aged advisor. Then, he had closed himself in his room with the bottle of elvish wine that he'd ordered a servant bring him.

The headache from the wine felt deserved as Thorin bid stiff farewells to the lord Elrond. As he led his Company from the valley he reflected that he had not been to the Shire often. He had travelled back to the Blue Mountains and Ered Luin countless times. For some reason, however, turning their mounts towards the Shire felt like coming home. Thorin would not dare admit it out loud, but it felt better than going to either of the dwarrow societies. He had lived between them for most of his life, but they held no claim to his heart. Not the way the Shire and two of its inhabitants did.

* * *

They weren't far from the elven valley when the Company's spirits seemed to revive. After the mountain passage they had all been tired and cold. The last few days of the journey had been mostly without cheer. Now, it felt almsot as though spirits were as high as when they first left Erebo. Of course the youngsters had endless energy, and they did a good job of cheering the rest of the party. The fresh provisions from the elves and a good night's sleep had also worked wonders for most of the Company. Thorin could not bring himself to join in the merriment. He knew that there was a fair reason behind Bilba's decisions. Still, Thorin could not help but wallow in his own self pity.

_Why hadn't she returned? Why had she never even reached out? Why hide from us?_  The worries gnawed unendingly at him as they rode. Moreover, Bilba had not even seen fit to send word of their child. _My daughter for Mahal's sake!_ He had a daughter and his One hadn't told him _._  During the journey he imagined thousands of times what his daughter might be like.  _Blonde like her mother or brunette like me? Would she grow a beard or have furry feet?_ The questions were endless as were his imaginings of how things his reunion might go with Bilba. _Will she be warm? Will there be tears? Will she hate me and spirit our child away?_  Those thoughts, however, inevitably led to the return of darker thoughts. Many of which centered around the news of the attacks both on Bilba and on Raven. His family was not safe, and he had not been able to protect or provide for them. Not caring for one's family was a shame for which any dwarf would be ridiculed. Even the poorest of dwarrow looked out for their kin and he was a King. He had no excuse for not caring for them. he had food, supplies, guards, and certainly a lot of wealth at his disposal.

* * *

By the time that they stopped two days ride from the border of the Shire Thorin had worked himself into a foul mood. He knew that his Company did not deserve it, but neither could he seem to help it.

"Kíli." he finally ordered.

"Your Majesty?" his nephew had been even more distant than usual.

"I would like you to ride ahead. I sent word from Rivendell of our coming, but it was only an estimate. You you heard the elf's instructions. They live on the edge of Buckland, look for a game trail shortly after the bridge. We will follow, but I should think that Bilba will want a more specific time of arrival." Thorin said. Kíli met his gaze, holding it and then nodded. It was not an apology, but it was an offer of truce.

"I'm taking Tauriel with me." Kíli declared.

"Of course." Thorin agreed, having expected it, and not entirely upset at the idea of the elf leaving.

"Thank you." Kíli said and then he turned and quickly left, heading for Tauriel. They remounted their steeds, and with the Company watching left.

"They'll announce us to our host." Thorin said as faces turned to him. "Make camp, and start on some food, I could use a hot bowl of stew after our day." They hurried to do his bidding. As Kíli disappeared from sight Thorin couldn't help but let his guts squirm with nerves.

Bilba would forgive the others. She had loved Fíli and Kíli as if they were her own children. The other members of the Company had also endeared themselves, to her. She had come to call them kin. It seemed the least that he could do to make sure that she knew that they were not to blame. Not really. He was their king, and the decision had been so fast. They had protected her as best as they could. They had chosen their king as their tradition and culture mandated. Then, they'd spent the following sixteen years hating him for his decision. Of course, none but Kíli would ever say that out loud. Their eagerness to embark on this journey, even when it was so close to winter was all the story that they needed. If the only thing that Thorin could do was make sure that Bilba would forgive his Company, he'd not hesitate. If she could know that they still loved and missed her? That they would protect and provide for her and their daughter? Thorin knew that he would do anything and everything that Bilba might demand. She would never again want for anything. Never again would Bilba be unprotected. Privately, Thorin knew that, if it came to it, he would even aside the crown of Erebor. She was his One and he would rather die than to live without her.


	15. fourteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven helps a friend, has a celebration, and greets a visitor.

AN: Hi all! Thanks for the awesome support!! I love hearing from you! Sorry it's a bit later than usual, I got a bit carried away in the writing, which means editing took longer too! Enjoy and let me know what you think!! :) 

* * *

 

_fourteen_

Raven

* * *

_**Buckland, by the Old Forest** _

_**early November 2958** _

Raven had missed Bilba. Selfishly, she enjoyed sitting in their smial alone with her. Raven liked the idea of forgetting the rest of the world. At least, that was until she heard the commotion outside and curiosity had gotten the better of her. She stood when she heard the argument grow louder, but Bilba had placed a placating hand on her shoulder.

"Stay here." Bilba instructed. Raven glared, but she stayed seated when Bilba had exited the smial.

"Stop! This is my home, and I will have peace. Weapons down. All of you! My daughter is in that smial, and she happens to care for everyone here. I'm not going to be the one to explain to her why any of you got hurt. Neither, do I want any of you to have to break that news to her either." Raven crept towards the door as Bilba's voice reached them. She glanced at Primula with wide begging eyes and although her aunt rolled her eyes, she allowed it. Clearly, they were both intrigued.

In the yard, Bilba stood between Dís and Legolas. Her aunt had Dwalin, Fíli, and the rest of the dwarrow at her back. Across from her, Legolas had the twin sons of Elrond and Estel at his side. They all looked chastened by Bilba's words but, their weapons remained unsheathed. Raven exchanged a worried glance with her aunt. When she drew back from the window without argument, she knew that Primula was in agreement. There was nothing like preventing conflict to spur Primula to action.

"Ma, Aunt Primula wants to know about dinner preparations-" Raven threw the door of the smial open and then froze, pretending to be surprised by the scene in front of her.

"Nothing like food to settle nerves, you're quite right. What do we have to make for dinner?" Bilba said with false cheeriness. "Raven, will you and our newest guests put some tables together for dinner? Fíli, you said that your dwarrow had gone hunting, will you see to the preparation of some meat?" Everyone hurried to obey Bilba's orders. Raven found herself leading the elvish party towards the eating area. The tables were already assembled, so there wasn't much to do. Raven and the elves cleaned the surfaces and set them with plates and cutlery. It was clear, however, that Bilba's purpose was to use Raven to keep the parties from fighting. They would be on their best behavior with her present, and Bilba was clearly counting on just that. A small smile spread across her lips, she loved how creative Bilba could be.

"Estel, Legolas, it's been too long. You didn't come, nor did the Rangers, in the summer." Raven looked up at her friend, and beamed. She had not seen either of them in months, and she had missed having them around and hearing their stories.

"We wanted to come, but things haven't been peaceful." Estel apologized.

"You mean the orcs and wargs?" Raven asked, and he paused.

"Yes." he finally acknowledged. "Your Ma told us you'd had more problems with wargs."

"We had to bring the animals into the smial because we heard them. Ma even made us bring Bunny in, because they might go after her." Raven admitted. "That's what you've been doing though, right? Hunting them?"

"Yes, Crabanniel," Legolas answered her and she turned to look at him, smiling at the sobriquet. Apparently, Crabanniel was the elvish equivalent of her name. Legolas was the only one who used it, but he had always called her by it.

"And you've had luck?" Raven couldn't help her curiosity.

"Indeed," Estel and Legolas shared a look as they settled down. Raven looked between the two, waiting for one of them to start speaking. In the end, it was Legolas who began telling stories. Raven smiled and listened; enraptured. Their lives sounded full of heroics. Part of Raven wanted that in her life too. Of course, her time on the road hadn't been so full of adventure, but she still longed for it.

"And your studies?" Estel finally called a halt to Legolas's stories.

"They've been fine." Raven shrugged, wanting to hear more stories. When Estel and Legolas both continued to regard her, she gave up and continued. "It's one thing that Aunt Dís, Fíli, Dwalin, and Aunt Primula can all agree on, at least for the most part. So I've been working on my writing, maths, and history as well as Sindarin, Khuzdul, and dwarrow history. Dwalin and Fíli have also been training me, though Aunt Primula doesn't approve."

"And, how have your elvish studies been going?" Raven smiled and their conversation slowed as she switched into Sindarin. She was nearly fluent, or she thought she could easily become fluent if she used it more.

* * *

"Raven, Lassie, I need to borrow ye." she turned to see as Dwalin approached. Estel tensed and Legolas bristled, but neither said anything. After only the briefest of hesitations, Raven slid from her seat.

"We'll be back before dinner, if Ma asks." she said, glancing at where her friends were still glaring at the dwarf. To his credit, Dwalin did not respond to the nonverbal challenge. In response, Raven pointedly reached out, taking his hand in hers. Dwalin didn't say anything as he led Raven away from the camp, towards the garden.

"I have a favor to ask you." Dwalin shifted, and Raven frowned. If she didn't know any better, she would have thought that that he was nervous. She decided not to say anything, waiting instead for him to speak. It took him a few long moments before he finally rambled out a question.

"Flowers?" Raven frowned, not quite having understood his request.

"I ken you folk use flowers, they're important. If I were to begin to apologize to yer  _Amad_ , with flowers, what would I use?" the dwarf repeated, his accent thicker than usual, though his words actually understandable. Raven watched as he glared around at the empty garden. It was early November, and the flowers that had still been around when he had first arrived were gone.

"Oh." Raven frowned, also looking around at the gardens.

"There aren't any?" Dwalin asked, and Raven felt a sudden panic. He sounded so disappointed. After everything that he'd done for her, however, she didn't want to disappoint him.

"Of course there are!" she insisted. "I mean, a lot of the flowers we'd usually use aren't in bloom. It's Bilba though that we're talking about, and if we make some substitutions, she'll understand." Raven headed towards the edge of the forest. "Tell me, exactly, what do you want to say? It will help me pick things out."

* * *

In the end it wasn't exactly a perfect bouquet, but Raven liked what their efforts had wrought. Dwalin clutched the posey of leaves and greenery awkwardly. Raven shot him a smile and a nod of encouragement, as she glanced back towards the camp. She could see Bilba, who was apparently looking for them.

"Do you want me to ask her to come over here?" Raven offered when Dwalin failed to move towards the camp.

"Perhaps, that might be better, Lassie." Dwalin finally nodded, and Raven smiled.

"She's going to love it." she promised and then turned and headed back towards Bilba.

"Raven, dinner's ready. Where have you been? Is everything alright?" Bilba asked.

"Everything's fine. Dwalin would like a word before dinner though." Raven said, gesturing to where the dwarf's figure was visible in the garden.

"I see." Bilba hesitated.

"He wants to apologize, Ma." Raven explained, Bilba's lack of enthusiasm worrying her.

"Of course." Bilba leaned over and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "Will you see to it that everything is ready to eat when we get back?" Raven nodded and hurried to find Primula and finish the dinner preparations.

* * *

"Where is Bilba?" Fíli asked as Raven sat down beside him. The table was filled, somewhat tensely, as they all waited for Bilba and Dwalin. Estel, Legolas, Elladan, and Elrohir sat quietly across from Raven, while Dís and Fíli were beside her. Privately, Raven hoped that Bilba and Dwalin would come back again soon. The tension between Elladan and Elrohir and the dwarrow had been manageable. Dís's grudge when it came to Legolas was another matter.

"She's speaking with Dwalin." Raven replied, glancing towards where the two had disappeared into the woods.

"I see." Fíli replied while the other dwarrow, seated further down the table also fell quiet. Raven turned back to Fíli, and then reached out and took his hand.

"You're not going to leave, are you?" she blurted, aware that there were many more ears listening in, but not caring.

"Not as long as you want us here. You're my cousin, Raven, I told you before, I'm not going to abandon you." Fíli promised with a little frown. "What made you think we'd leave?"

"Well, you and Ma just looked so serious and Dwalin was well," Raven trailed off. She knew that the dwarf would likely not want anyone else to know about his nerves. "Well, I've never seen him so sombre." Raven amended with a little shrug.

"What happened before, with your Ma leaving and keeping you a secret, it's complicated. Especially what happened to make Bilba leave and think she had to keep you a secret. It's something that we need to talk about with her. We've all done things wrong, and it can be hard to talk about mistakes. That's why we've been so sombre. It doesn't mean though that we're leaving." Fíli said.

"I know it can be difficult. Just, Ma missed you all a lot. She could barely talk about you because it made her too sad, and you've said that you missed her too, so why isn't it enough?" Raven frowned.

"Well, it might be enough. Still, we all need to talk. We need to explain what happened and to make sure we understand each other properly. It's part of the process of forgiveness." Fíli explained.

"But then I should talk with the hobbits," Raven began, and Fíli tensed.

"Why would you assume that?" his tone of voice was cautiously casual.

"Well, Ma says that it's bad to be mad at people." Raven shrugged. "Maybe we misunderstood each other. If that was the case then, you don't have to punish them."

"There's a difference, Raven, you see with your Ma and us, we love each other. We hurt each other by accident. We were family and we want to be family again. With those hobbits, they hurt you on purpose and they do not want your forgiveness." Raven flinched lightly, but then leaned against Fíli's side. "Do you understand?" he asked softly and she nodded.

"It still feels wrong," Raven shrugged.

"Punishing them?" Fíli asked patiently.

"Yes. I mean, I know what you said before, I remember, but it's hard to accept. I feel responsible." Raven said softly.

"I know it is hard to accept, but what happens to them is my responsibility. It's not your fault what happened or what will happen to them. Remember, I promised you I'd protect you, and that's exactly what I am doing." she felt Fíli press a kiss to the top of her head and she nodded.

She was still leaning on him when Dwalin and Bilba returned to the table. Bilba was holding the little bouquet of fall greenery, and when she caught Raven's eye she smiled. Glancing at Dwalin, he also smiled at her, and Raven hoped that their smiles meant that all was well.

"Well, the food's getting cold, and we can't have that. Everyone better start. No need to waste food!" Bilba insisted and Raven nodded, her stomach giving out a loud grumble. Since the dwarrow had arrived, she had been eating more. In fact, although she and Bilba had just finished tea a few hours before, she was hungry again. Clearly it seemed that her hobbit metabolism was taking over.

* * *

The dinner went well considering the afternoon's hostilities. Raven found herself laughing a lot over the course of the evening. After the meal, they gathered by the large fire pit that the dwarrow had constructed.

Dís took her chance to speak with Bilba, so Raven found herself nestled again against Fíli's chest. It seemed natural, she realized with a shock, to be close with her cousin. She used to derive warmth and safety from Bilba, but in her absence she'd become drawn to Fíli. He had been gone for almost a week to deal with the hobbits and she had missed him. She had missed this. Glancing across the fire at where Dwalin sat, she offered him a smile. Everyone noticed that, wherever Bilba was, her bouquet went with her. He smiled at her and nodded his head at her again and Raven let herself give a contented smile in return. She'd known that it was going to work, but it still felt satisfying to see it confirmed.

* * *

The next morning, Raven didn't rise until several hours after dawn. Indeed, she suspected it was closer to noon by the time she appeared in the kitchen. Bilba was awake, sitting there with some tea across from Primula. She smiled, rising and kissing Raven's temple in morning greeting as she shepherded her to a spot at the table. Raven devoured the breakfast placed before her while soft conversation resumed.

"I missed my morning studies." Raven fretted.

"Dwalin won't mind. You've been through a lot, you needed you sleep." Primula replied at once.

"In fact, you've been working hard, you deserve a day off." Bilba added and Raven looked suspiciously between Primula and Bilba.

"You never say that," she frowned.

"Well, perhaps I'll have to say it more often then." Bilba insisted.

"Okay, so then what do you want to do?" Raven asked with a small smile.

"Well, we did miss our birthday." Bilba said and Raven beamed.

* * *

That night, they feasted. All day long, Bilba and Raven cooked together. Things almost felt normal. Bilba sent Raven on various errands and she spent her day gathering herbs, communicating with the dwarrow kitchen and so forth. Partway through the day Dís joined them in the smial. It soon became evident, however, that while the dwarrowdam was fierce, her culinary skills were rudimentary at best. Raven was left to help her aunt while Bilba and Primula made most of the food. It struck her as she worked that they hadn't really feasted on anything special, not since the dwarrow came. In fact, watching the dishes appear in the kitchen, Raven was certain she'd never eaten so well in her entire life. Primula had bragged about Bilba's culinary skills, but they'd never had the supplies. They no longer had any such hinderances. The dishes ranged from apple turnovers to meat pies, not mention the breads and sides. The day was punctuated with quite a lot of sampling and laughter. As evening fell, Raven couldn't think of many days when she'd had more fun. Perhaps, the only one close would be the start of the day with Fíli, before the attack. As the evening drew on, Dís excused herself to finish the outdoor preparations. When they were ready to serve, Raven exited the smial to find that the dwarrowdam had worked a miracle. Somehow, she'd filled the yard with lanterns that made the space glow. Eyeing one as she passed, Raven suspected that someone had made them. She didn't have a chance to ask, however, before Bilba was calling her to grab another tray of pies.

Since the dwarrow had set up camp with huts they'd begun to make themselves at home. A part of the lower field was set apart for training and a pasture and shelter constructed for their mounts. Raven, however, had been most surprised by the small forge that they set up. When she had time, she liked to stop by and watch the smithies at work. There were a surprising number of them, and Raven had been delighted to learn that Fíli was a smith as well. He had welcomed her to watch him work, and she went whenever she had the chance. Raven had thought at first that the forge was to make supplies. Then, she realized it was an art. Each dwarrow was a master of something. Most here were warriors, but there were quite a few smithies as well. Raven had heard about the quality of their work, but she hadn't truly expected their artisanship. Fíli had presented her one day with a golden flower. It was an amaryllis, Raven's favorite flower. She smiled even now thinking about it. Fíli's talent was incredible, he made it seem like he had gilded a living flower in gold. He claimed it was nothing, but it made Raven think of smith work in a whole new light.

"Raven?" she startled, having set down her latest tray of pies and stopped to wonder at the lanterns once more.

"Did you make them?" she blurted, glancing in Fíli's direction.

"Make what?" Fíli frowned, "the lights?" he asked, following her gaze. "I didn't, I believe it was Sudri, the guard, he is also a master smith, and it looks like his work."

"I know who you're talking about," Raven nodded, remembering the dwarf in question. He had an olive complexion with long thick black beard and hair. Compared to his dwarrow companions, Sudri was quiet though he always had a warm smile for Raven. "They're incredible," Raven admitted quietly. Gazing up at the lanterns, Raven realized that she knew very little about dwarrow culture.

"He'd be glad to hear your compliment." Fíli commented.

"You know how to smithy as well, it's your trade right?" Raven asked, turning with a frown to her cousin, determined to remedy her lack of knowledge.

"Aye, like Thorin. He taught me." Fíli replied.

"What about Aunt Dís? and Dwalin?" Raven demanded.

"Dís and Dwalin have both decided to pursue their mastery in weapons. They are master warriors, essentially. Dwalin's prowess, for example, won him the title of Master at Arms in Erebor." Fíli explained as they sat down, gathering with the rest of the camp at the long tables.

"Raven, where are you?" Bilba called from the smial doorway, and Raven looked away.

"I want to learn more, you know." Raven insisted before she turned and went over to where Bilba was waiting for her.

"Happy Birthday." Bilba embraced her, and Raven wrapped her arms around her mother's petite figure.

"Happy Birthday, Ma." Raven whispered, kissing Bilba's cheek.

"Come on, let's eat, I made all of your favorites." Bilba beamed, and Raven couldn't help but smile back.

"It's amazing, Ma." Raven looked over the feast laid out before them. "You've outdone yourself. It's just like the feasts you used to promise me you'd make."

"Well, I did promise." Bilba replied.

"I know." Raven sat down, Bilba on one side and Fíli on her other. She was glad that there weren't any arguments over dinner. Of course, Dís and Legolas weren't exactly talking, but they made a point not to glare either. As the meal progressed, Raven made sure to mention to Sudri how much she liked the lanterns. The dwarf stood to bow to her, his face flushing with pride as the rest of the table also acknowledged his skills.

"Wait here, I have something special for you." Bilba insisted when they had finished with the main meal. Raven nodded, though couldn't help but look over her shoulder as Bilba disappeared into the smial. She returned a moment later, carrying a large apple cake that she set in front of Raven.

"Made special for you," Bilba beamed again. "I know it's your favorite. Happy sixteenth, dear."

"Thanks, Mum." Raven hesitated. "I didn't get to make you anything," she bit her lip lightly, feeling guilt swim in her belly. Usually she did, but today had come as a surprise and working with Dís had changed the dynamic, so she'd forgotten.

"You already gave me something, Raven. You're happy, you've made sure that Dís and Fíli are a part of our family, and you helped Dwalin. You're growing into a beautiful young woman, and I'm so proud of you." Bilba said, running gentle fingers through Raven's hair. Dís had insisted on doing it earlier, brushing out carefully before she put new braids in. They were, apparently ceremonial, used to show who Raven was, not to simply hold back her hair. Looking around the table, Raven realized that Dís and Fíli had different braids as well. Many of the dwarrow had re-done their hair, and Raven suddenly felt proud of her own hair. She still had the three clasps, Thorin's, Dís's, and Fíli's to decorate it, and she smiled at the thought. She liked being part of their family. Dís had also insisted on braiding Bilba's hair, though she did not offer any beads. Raven wondered why her aunt didn't give beads to Bilba. Remembering the personal nature of beads, however, she decided it was better not to ask.

As it was, they were halfway through dessert when they heard the sound of hoofbeats. Fíli jumped to his feet, his sword already in his hand. Down the line of dwarrow, the other guards were also rising, ready to defend Raven and Bilba. The elves and Estel also leapt to their feet, drawing weapons. It was the elves, however, who first relaxed their posture. Two figures entered the ring of light, pulling their mounts to the a stop. One was a pony, the other a horse and it took Raven a moment to realize who she was looking at. The taller figure was a red-haired elf woman. She sat atop her mount, frozen as she stared at Legolas. Her dwarf companion, however, had no such hesitation. He dismounted, his black hair flying.

"Kíli!" Fíli rushed forward, embracing the other dwarf. Dís let her hand slip from the side of her dress, where Raven suspected her aunt had a hidden weapon. She too moved over to the new arrivals as the rest of the dwarrow relaxed. Raven turned to look at Bilba, and was startled to see tears pooling in her eyes.

"Ma," Raven whispered, moving towards Bilba. The movement caused the family reunion to come to an end.

"Bilba." Raven's head swung between her new cousin and Bilba. Then she took a step forward, both moving towards Kíli and blocking Bilba.

"Kí, this is Raven, our cousin. Raven, I'd like to introduce you to Kíli, my baby brother, and his wife, Tauriel." Fíli motioned to his brother and the elf. She turned, looking at Raven and bowing her head. She was still seated atop her mount, and after acknowledging Raven she turned to look back at Legolas. Glancing in Legolas's direction, Raven realized that he was staring right back at the elf. Raven vaguely registered how pale her friend seemed, but then she forced herself to look back to Kíli. He stood silently beside his brother, watching her. Fíli sensed her hesitation and held out a hand. Raven moved forward, taking it, and letting her cousin draw her both towards him and towards Kíli.

"Hello," she glanced nervously in Kíli's direction and was rewarded with a bright smile.

"Hello." Kíli beamed at her, and meeting his gaze, Raven couldn't help but return his smile. He was every bit as enthusiastic and happy as Fíli had told her he would be.

"Fíli's told me a lot about you," Raven said shyly, unsure of what to say.

"All good things, I hope? Not about too many times when we got in trouble?" Kíli shot her a conspiratorial wink, and Raven let out a giggle before she could help it. There was just something about Kíli that made Raven want to smile and laugh.

"Only a few." Raven replied, and Kíli chuckled.

"Well, I suppose he wouldn't have much to say if he didn't tell you at least a few of those stories." he shifted as though he was uncertain of what to do next, and Raven moved forward, slipping her arms around him.

"I'm glad to finally meet you." she admitted.

"I'm glad I get to meet you as well." he replied, wrapping his arms around her.

"Kíli," Raven drew back at the sound of Bilba's voice.

"Bilba," Raven moved back to Fíli's side as the clearing grew quiet in expectation. "I'm so sorry, Bilba. Please, what can I do to earn your forgiveness?" the cheery smile was gone from Kíli's face, and Raven could have sworn that the dwarf was suddenly close to tears. He didn't just look miserable. He exuded his misery. Looking at him made Raven feel like she should go and hug him once more.

"Oh just come here, already." Bilba broke down, and Kíli flew into her arms.

"Please, Bilba, I've never forgiven myself for what happened! Myself or Uncle, it was so wrong! We were so wrong! We broke our promise." Kíli was blubbering, and Raven looked away, feeling as though she was intruding in a private moment. Kíli had seemed so strong when he arrived. It wasn't the same strength that Fíli had, but it still seemed wrong to Raven to see him look so helpless before Bilba.

"We all made mistakes that day, Kíli. I've said the same to Dwalin and Fíli, and I will tell the same to the rest of the Company. As long as you are here to be a family for Raven, and if can forgive me, then the past will be left in the past." Bilba declared, and Raven felt her heart jump in hope. She glanced up at Fíli, who smiled down at her.

"I'll never leave again." Kíli promised, and Bilba chuckled softly. "I'd give my life to protect you. Both of you. I've seen what breaking that promise means, and I won't stray from it again. Whatever comes after us, whatever bad luck you attract, I'll protect you."

"Well, how about we all stop trying to be eaten or otherwise dismembered by things so that you don't have to protect us?" Bilba laughed, though Raven could swear that she was fighting back tears as well.

"Come here, you two as well," Bilba glanced over at where Fíli and Raven stood.

"Ma," Raven led the way, tugging Fíli with her, and she realized that she couldn't remember ever being happier. She had family with her now, not just Bilba and Primula, but Fíli, Dís and Kíli too and they made her feel safe and happy.

* * *

When the tears had dried, food was found for Kíli and Tauriel and they all gathered around the fire. Kíli sat determinedly by Bilba, causing Fíli and Dwalin to chuckle. The two dwarrow recounted how protective the younger prince had been of Bilba on the journey. There was plenty of laughter and Raven enjoyed hearing the stories. That was, until Bilba finally asked the question that they had all been waiting for.

"So, how long until the others arrive?" a silence fell over the camp.

"We rode ahead. They are not far. I suspect by early evening at latest. We were able to go far faster alone." Kíli replied, glancing at Tuariel, who nodded her agreement.

"And who-" Bilba trailed off.

"The whole company, even Balin, Oín, and Bifur refused to be left behind. Gimli, Glóin's son, decided to come as well and that meant that Lívói, Glóin's wife, insisted as well. So, of course, Bombur's Elsba refused to be left behind and insisted on bringing their boys, Baldur and Elsbur. They're about the same age as Raven." Kíli replied.

"I'm surprised that-" Bilba trailed off again.

"Thorin let it all happen?" Tauriel chuckled. "Balin got to the stables first. He knew that Thorin would try to ride off alone. Thanks to Balin, Thorin couldn't get a mount until we were all there. At that time, he was so desperate to leave that he didn't want to argue."

"Nothing was going to stop us from coming, Bilba. We left you once, we won't do it again. My loyalty is to you, not with Thorin." Bilba suddenly frowned at Kíli's words while the camp went silent.

"What do you mean?" Bilba asked carefully. Raven noticed that the rest of the company were quietly excusing themselves. It seemed that such speech made them feel uncomfortable. Finally, only Dwalin, Dís, Fíli, Raven, Bilba, Kíli, and Tauriel remained.

"Exactly that, Bilba. If it ever comes to a choice, I choose you, my Queen." Kíli replied, kneeling before Bilba. Raven glanced at Fíli before looking back to Kíli and Bilba.

"And do you think that such a choice, such protection, will be necessary?" Fíli drew Raven closer to him and she returned the gesture, looking nervously between Bilba and Kíli.

"The Gold Sickness is gone. It hasn't ever come back, but regardless of that, I'm on your side, Bilba." Raven watched as Bilba reached down, gently stroking Kíli's hair as the dwarf broke down.

"I know you're on my side, Kíli. You've always been on my side and I've always been on your side. You see though, I don't want you to have to choose whose side you're on. Your uncle loves you, I know he does, and I won't let you use me as a reason to throw that relationship away." Bilba slid from her seat to take Kíli in her arms. "I didn't come back and fight for you to live just to give your uncle the silent treatment for years. I did it so that you could be together, as a family." Bilba looked up, finding Fíli, Dwalin, and Dís's gazes. "I don't know what's going to happen tomorrow when I see Thorin again. I don't know how or if we'll ever be the same, but if he wants to be a father to Raven then I won't stop him. I want him to be a part of my daughter's life. I want her to be able to love him, and to learn from him and from all of you. I forgive you for what happened just as you have forgiven me and, I forgive him too." Raven felt as Fíli trembled. It was slight, but pressed against his side as she was, she felt it and gave his ribs a squeeze. He squeezed her back and then she felt him press a warm kiss to the top of her head.

"If there's anything I know about my brother, it's that he does want to be a father. He raised my two boys, he loved them as his own, and as the years went on I believe he gave up hope that he would be a father again. He'll not spurn this chance. He will also seek you forgiveness, Bilba. Though if you do not wish to return to how things were, he should respect that as well." Raven turned at the sound of Dís's words. She glanced at Bilba and wondered what it was that she wanted. Bilba missed Thorin. Raven knew that. She also suspected thought that Bilba still loved him. It made things undeniably complicated. They fell into silence, and Raven let her eyelids droop as Fíli settled a heavy cloak over top her. It smelled like Dwalin, she noticed as she buried herself in it, curling in against her cousin.

"I can take her to bed," Raven heard Bilba offer.

"It's alright, Bilba, she's slept many a night with me before." Fíli replied, his chest rumbling under her ear.

"Well, you know where the bed is, whenever you want to move her." Raven heard Bilba say. "I believe I need to take a walk, I won't go far, I promise, I just need to take some air."

"But-" Kíli protested.

"With all of the dwarrow here and the elves, I'll not go out of earshot, and I'll be perfectly safe. I'll even take Sting if it would make you feel better, I just need a little space to think before tomorrow." Bilba replied.

"Let her go, Laddie." Dwalin grumbled, and then silence fell again. Raven felt another warm weight settle against her belly. Without opening her eyes, she was fairly certain that Kíli was leaning against her.

"I shall bid you good night, I have an old friend to catch up with." Raven felt another presence, the elf Tauriel, who gave Kíli a kiss before disappearing.

"Has she really forgiven us?" Kíli asked, when Raven was almost asleep.

"I believe that she has." Fíli replied. "It's Bilba, and her heart, but she should not have. We've wronged her and Raven in the worst ways possible. They had no protection, and barely any food, clothing, or any other supplies."

"I thought that hobbits were supposed to be fat. I think even during the quest Bilba was more plump than she is now." Kíli acknowledged.

"She was. They've been starving for years." Raven shifted, thinking about her full belly and Fíli stilled.

"Bilba's never been mad at us, Lad, she was afraid though. She thought that she was still banished. She's kept Raven hidden here because she thought that Thorin would take her away. She didn't want to part with her child, not when she didn't know if Thorin was ever in his right mind." Dwalin grumbled softly.

"But, he'd never do that! We'd never let him do that either!" Kíli protested.

"Shh," Fíli warned, a hand gently resting atop Raven's head, and his brother begrudgingly settled.

"She was afraid, Laddie, and that is our worst crime. She never hated us, but she was afraid of us. Likely equally afraid and disappointed when no one ever came to help. She did not realize that we thought her dead either." Dwalin continued.

"We won't fail her again. We can't." Kíli said finally, his voice thick with emotion.

"Aye." Fíli and Dwalin both agreed.

Raven fell asleep not long after that. She was fairly certain that the conversation had continued, but whatever was said to fill Kíli in, she didn't know.

* * *

In the morning, Raven woke nestled between her cousins.  _The way that Ma must have woke on the quest,_  she suspected. It was warm between the two dwarrow, and she felt safe. Her stirring failed to wake either brother, and she carefully pulled out of the bed. Fíli woke and she whispered about the bathroom so that he would go back to sleep. She thought that they had probably been up late last night. Exiting the hut, she found Bilba seated on her stool in the upper garden. Primula was visible, plowing the lower field with Bunny. For the first time, though, the sight of the freshly-tilled earth didn't make her feel fear. Instead, she knew that it meant change. The dwarrow wouldn't let them go hungry, not this winter. Silently, Raven went to work beside Bilba, suspecting that she was trying to tidy the place up.

"Did you sleep well?" Bilba inquired.

"I think I fell asleep on Fíli. He brought me back to his cot and then Kíli ended up there." Raven said, wondering if Bilba had been worried.

"I thought as much. I'm glad that you all get along so well. The boys, well, you've always reminded me of them. They'll be good to you, they'll teach and protect you both." Bilba nodded approvingly.

"Will you tell me more about the others?" Raven asked, pausing in her work to look at Bilba. "I know, you never really talked much about them, it hurt too much, but they're coming now, and you've barely told me anything."

"Well, I suppose I could." Bilba finally nodded.

They worked through the morning, side by side, Bilba telling Raven stories. Fíli and Kíli emerged and took up nearby stations until Dwalin took them off for practice. At noon they stopped and turned their efforts to the smial. Raven was working on the bedroom area while Bilba worked in the kitchen when she paused.

Since Fíli had come and they'd grown close she'd spent more nights curled with her cousin than in the smial. With a pang she realized she'd also drifted away from Primula, however, this was still home. She knew every inch of the smial and in spite of never having really left it, she had had to admit that she'd missed it.

* * *

"Things, they're never going to be the same are they?" she asked that afternoon as she helped Primula to kneed bread and Bilba prepared a luncheon for them.

"No, I daresay they won't be." Bilba replied. "Does that bother you?" she turned and Raven stopped her work.

"I don't know. I mean, I'm happy. I like having Fíli and Kíli and Dwalin and Dís, but, what's going to happen? Where are we going to go?" she turned to Primula, "you'll come right?"

"Well, we'll have to wait until everyone comes to see what happens. We might stay here, with a better smial, or we might go to Erebor. Anything's possible right now." Bilba said.

"I want to go to Erebor." Raven blurted, and Bilba nodded. "I mean, I want to see it, to learn more about dwarrow culture."

"Well then, I'm sure that it can be arranged." Bilba agreed.

"But not until the Spring right? And will you come too, both of you?" Raven hesitated.

"Nothing will be decided until the spring. We'll have a while yet to make the necessary preparations." Bilba replied, and Raven felt her belly squirm at Primula's silence.

"Aunt Primula?" she asked softly.

"We'll have to wait and see what the decisions are." Primula smiled, and then kissed Raven's brow. "You two are my family, you know that."

* * *

As the afternoon stretched on the smial grew increasingly tense. They were all waiting. Raven was pretending to read. Bilba cleaned the counter for the hundredth time. Primula dropped stitches in her usually impeccable knitting. Outside, the camp had been bustling too. First, they had erected another hut, in preparation for the newcomers. Then, the camp itself had been cleaned.  _Thorin is their king after all,_ Raven reasoned as her own belly twisted again.  _My father is a king, so how should I treat him? Surely not as casually as I do Fíli or Dís,_  Raven wondered  _I even greeted Kíli casually_. Before she could think on it any longer, however, there was the sound of hoofbeats. Bilba froze, Primula's knitting stopped and Raven looked out the open window. It was cold having the windows open, but they wanted know exactly when Thorin and company arrived.

"Ma?" Raven asked softly as she spotted them. Raven rose and walked over to the window, peering out as Bilba came to her side. Bilba placed a warm palm on her shoulder in comfort as they watched. The party was in the lower garden; a stream of ponies and riders. Raven scanned the figures, trying to identify all of them. Her eyes finally landed on a tall figure with black and silver hair, and then she knew: she was looking at her father.


	16. fifteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilba is reunited with the Company.

**Hi All! Sorry for how long it took me to write this and sorry for any typos! It's been a super busy academic week so this is quite hot off the press (therefore sorry for any typos etc.)! Thanks for the awesome feedback, it always makes my day when I hear from you! Hope you enjoy, I know a lot of you have been waiting for a reunion! Let me know what you think! :)**

**Quick translation, _namdith_  as I'm using it means little sister in Khuzdul.**

* * *

_fifteen_

Bilba

* * *

_**Buckland, by the Old Forest** _

_**early November 2958** _

Bilba had never considered herself over aware of her appearance. After all, as a child, she had traipsed across the countryside; returning home caked in mud. Her parents had worried then that she'd never make a good match. Then, when she was barely of age Gandalf had appeared. Truth be told, she hadn't thought once about cutting her prized hair or dressing in her father's old clothes. She'd realized that she had the chance of a lifetime, and known that becoming Bilbo Baggins was the way to get it.

Staring at Thorin in her yard, however, Bilba couldn't help but think about how handsome he still looked. In comparison, she was thin, and aged more than she should have. Of course, by hobbit standards, she wasn't exactly young anymore either. She was a mother and a middle-aged hobbit, not a beautiful you lass for a King in Exile to sweep off of her feet. Bilba glanced at Raven. There was so much of Thorin in her daughter. Seeing him now, once again before her, Bilba realized she'd always been lying to herself. She had never forgotten him, no, she still cared for him as much as she didn't want to.

Fíli emerged from the camp, going with Dís, and Dwalin going to greet the newcomers. Kíli and Tauriel also appeared, and Bilba watched with no small sadness as the youngest Durin avoided his uncle.  _Clearly_ , she reflected,  _that will have to be remedied_. Then, she shook herself,  _what are you thinking with your meddling? You know what happened last time_ , Bilba sighed. As much as she might think at any fleeting moment that things were the same, they couldn't ever return to that again.

* * *

"Ma?" Raven asked softly, and Bilba started back to the present, looking down at her daughter. "Are we going to go down?" she asked softly.

"I suppose we ought to." Bilba nodded and Raven gave her an encouraging smile.

"Primula, aren't you coming?" Raven hesitated when the hobbit failed to leave the smial.

"I think you ought to go and greet them first." Primula replied and though Raven frowned, Bilba wrapped an arm around her daughter.

She glanced back at Primula and saw both determination and sadness in the other hobbit's gaze. If they left the Shire, Primula wouldn't be coming with them. She was too much in love with the Shire in spite of what it had done to Bilba and Raven. Primula could still return to her old life, her ties to her family were still strong. Bilba didn't begrudge the hobbit. She knew that, if asked, Primula would always fight for her and Raven. So long as they were not brought up then the hobbit could easily slip back into her old life. Demanding that she give up her future would be too much, Bilba understood that.

With her hand in Raven's, they exited the smial, walking towards the edge of the camp. She knew the moment that the Company spotted them, the moment that they spotted Raven.

"Ma," Raven whispered, and Bilba stopped, looking over at her.

"They're going to be very excited to meet you." Bilba promised.

"Can you go first?" Raven asked softly and Bilba smiled.

"Of course I can. Why don't you go and see Fíli first while I greet some old friends?" Bilba suggested, and Raven nodded before looking back down at the group.

* * *

Before seeing the Company, Bilba had promised herself that she would stay strong and wary. It all crumbled as she looked down at them in person. In spite of everything that they had done, they were still her friends.  _The best family,_  Bilba had to admit,  _that I ever had, except for Raven._  Looking down at them, Bilba knew that they were still her friends. Even having them here on her farm made her feel safer, as though she could take on the world.

As she looked over the familiar figures, however, Bilba could not help but find her gaze locked on one in particular. When Thorin's blue eyes met hers she felt her knees go weak. She was embarrassed by the reaction, but she couldn't help it. Her heart hammered in her chest as she read the unguarded emotions in his gaze. He had missed her. That was what his eyes promised. Still, Bilba hesitated, knowing she couldn't simply run down the hill into his arms. Some Tookish part of her considered the notion, but it wasn't right. Things weren't the same anymore. As much as she might long for their relationship to be as it had been when they first arrived in Erebor; it couldn't be.

* * *

"Bilba!" her gaze was drawn from Thorin when she heard Bofur's familiar voice. A wave of longing washed over her as she looked down at his familiar grin. Then, her resolve broke and she rushed towards them as they swarmed around her. Bilba found herself engulfed in his embrace, and it was like a dam had broken. Then, what felt like moments later, the whole company was there. Bilba knew that she was being passed around. She also knew that there had once been a time when that would have annoyed her. Now, however, it just reminded her of how much she had lost. Now, it was a sharp reminder of how lonely she become.

Bilba had hoped that she wouldn't be overwhelmed with emotion, but she should have known that it was foolish. When Bofur had first embraced her, the tears had started. He had been her first friend, well, he and the boys. Dwalin of course had been her first protector. He had after all known from the start who and what she was. Bofur, however, was the first one who had accepted her into the Company.

"I'm so happy to see you alive, Lass, you scared all of us." he said, and though his smile stayed firmly in place they both heard the note of sorrow.

"I'm happy to see you as well. It's been far too long." Bilba smiled back. "Tea was at four, but of course you're all always welcome, any time. What I have is yours, as much or or as little as it may be. Obviously, you needn't bother knocking either. After all, I know that you'd all just end up in an undignified queue on the mat if you tried." she let out a watery laugh, remembering how most of them had ended up in a pile on her front stoop.

"Well, I'm glad that we're always invited. I don't suppose though you've any extra tea left over? I still remember the meal at your house. One of the best feasts I've ever had." Bofur smiled, and Bilba couldn't help but blush a little. For her it had been one of the worst feasts she'd prepared, after all, she hadn't had any forewarning. If she had then, it would have been a feast. A real feast. She certainly would have cooked for days. Still, even if she was no longer a proper hobbit, she enjoyed the compliment to her cooking.

"Alright Bofur, let the lass go. We want to say hello to her too." Bilba turned to see Balin standing behind Bofur. The dwarf looked startlingly frail, she thought. Of course, Balin had always been older, but Bilba felt suddenly aware that she was not the only one to change. Most of the Company didn't look overly changed. Or, at least not for the worse. Fíli and Kíli had matured and she supposed that there was more silver in the dwarrow's hair. However, they had not immediately struck her as old. Dwalin was going white, but still as strong as ever. At least, that was what she had thought thus far, and at first none of the others had seemed that old to her.  _Certainly_ , she thought before she could stop herself,  _Thorin doesn't look the worse for age_. Seeing Balin, however, made her want to cling to the elder dwarf.  _Still_ , she tried to reason,  _the journey had been hard on them_. They still had made it, however, and she knew that they'd come for her. Her real family had finally come for her.

"Balin." she smiled and moved over to him. He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and then brought their foreheads together. It was not a violent collision the way that he favored with his brother. Still, it touched Bilba far more than she could ever say. She knew that many of the dwarrow exchanged the greeting, but she'd only ever seen family members do it.

"It's good to see you still fighting,  _namadith_. We've feared the worst for many years." Balin said solemnly, and Bilba's desire to cling to the dwarf and sob increased tenfold. It had been years since she'd last been called  _namadith_. When they were on the quest, however, it was more familiar than her name. So many of the dwarrow here had named her as their kin. When Bilba fled Erebor after the battle she had not dared to hope that she'd ever be considered their kin again. Instead, Bilba had also feared the worst about all of them for years. She had spent many hours worrying that they had not survived the battle. She woken in cold sweats so many more times in fear that they had found her only to tell her how much they hated her. Now, however, they stood in front of her, beaming and apologizing and once more calling her their kin.  _If only I hadn't been such a coward, if only I'd sought tidings, then we might not have been separated_ , Bilba lamented.

"I'm glad that now we don't have to fear." Balin caught her gaze, and she did her best to try to smile at him. Due to her tears, however, she doubted that it was a successful endeavor. Somehow he always seemed to read her mind and know exactly what to say and how to comfort her.

"I've," her throat closed up, and she swallowed hard, fighting for the ability to speak. "I've missed you all," she choked out before her throat closed up again. Balin stepped forward, however, hugging her.

"I'm so sorry we didn't come sooner, can you ever forgive us,  _namadith_?" he murmured as she returned his embrace.

"Of course I forgive you. Can you forgive me for betraying you?" Bilba replied at once.

"You never betrayed us. We let you down when you fought for us." Balin stepped back, cupping her face in his hands. "I'll never forget how I've wronged you, namadith." Balin met her gaze, and Bilba nodded, knowing better than to argue with the dwarf. She could read his sorrow in his gaze, his regret, and there was no stopping that.

"You have to tell us though, Bilba, what happened?" Bilba turned to see Ori looking curiously at her, and threw herself into his arms. The not-so-little dwarf hugged her back, and she managed to smile at the scribe. In the years, Ori too had filled out, his beard becoming thicker, though he still seemed just as sweet as ever. During the Quest they had gotten along well. At least, they had once Ori had gotten over his nerves and started to talk with her. Of course, learning that Bilbo was actually Bilba had caused him to retreat back into his shell. Still, once Ori had gotten used to the idea their friendship had continued, stronger than ever.

"Well, it's not really all that interesting," Bilba hedged.

"Not that interesting, except that you've a family now, aye?" Nori interrupted, coming to his younger brother's aid.

"Well, I do," Bilba acknowledged, turning to look for Raven. Just as Bilba had suggested, Raven had found a spot at Fíli's side. Since returning, Bilba had become used to the familiarity between Fíli and Raven. Fíli currently had an arm wrapped around her daughter, and Raven was buried in her cousin's side. She had been watching them, seeing as she had become the centre of attention, however, she looked away.  _No doubt,_  Bilba figured,  _she's shy because of the attention_.

"Her name's Raven, though I suppose she's a little shy at the moment." Bilba said, deciding that it was best to let Raven continue to watch than to drag her into the middle of the throng.  _After all_ , Bilba reasoned,  _I still have many friends to greet._

"She's a fine young lassie." Glóin interjected. "I've with me my own laddie, Gimli," a younger red-haired dwarf stood at her friend's side, and he immediately bowed low to her. "And my wife, Lívói." A dwarrowdam stepped forward, also bowing low.

"At your service, my lady." the two dwarrow said in unison.

"Bilba at yours." she returned with a curtsy of her own. "It's my honor to meet you, I've heard many good things about the both of you." Bilba added while the two dwarrow looked distinctly flustered.

"Please, no, it is our honor to meet you, you're a hero and-" Gimli suddenly dropped off at a sharp glance from his mother.

"I'm no hero, really, I'm just a hobbit." Bilba protested.

"You always claimed that, but it has never been true." Bilba froze at the familiar voice.

"Thorin." Bilba slowly turned, meeting his blue gaze.

"Bilba." suddenly, the king sank to his knees, and Bilba's breath caught.

"Don't you dare touch that beard of yours." Bilba blurted, and then eyed the rest of her friends. "Any of you. I know what it means, and I don't demand that sort of an apology."

"Then, what apology will you accept?" Thorin replied, and Bilba hesitated.

"A sincere one." Bilba replied, and Thorin hesitated.

"Very well." Thorin nodded, and though Bilba waited, he said nothing. When it became evident that he wasn't about to speak either, the other dwarrow encircled her once more.

* * *

Bombur was eager to introduce her to his own family, wife and two sons. Oín smiled though it seemed that he had gone even more deaf, and Dori fussed over her like he had always done with Ori. The final dwarf, Bifur, greeted her shyly. He spoke to her, and though he had a heavy accent, it was the first time that they'd ever spoken. Bilba beamed and hugged him tight in response, taking the older dwarf by surprise.

Bilba was glad to be reunited with all of them, however, she couldn't ignore the weight of the gaze at her back.  _I should have known better,_  she reprimanded herself,  _this is Thorin we're talking about after all. He'd never simply apologize, especially not to the likes of me and not after what I did._  Still, she tried her best to smile and to focus on the friends that she had. They all had offered her apologies and, tearfully, she had forgiven all of them.

* * *

"Well, you must all be exhausted and hungry!" Bilba exclaimed, her own belly beginning to grumble quietly. "We had a large dinner last night, there are some left overs that I can make into a suitable dinner. Please, though, while I see to preparations, settle yourselves. I believe that Fíli had another hut built for all of you for now." she insisted, feeling a pang of guilt for being a bad hostess. They had been here an hour already and she hadn't even offered them so much as a drink.  _My parents would be horrified at my manners,_  Bilba thought before correcting herself.  _My parents would be horrified by me._

"Raven, do you want to come and introduce yourself before you help me? Fíli can you see to the meat? We'll have bread such ready in a jiffy." Bilba asked, going to Raven. Her daughter turned and fled towards the smial. Bilba thought that she heard a hurried excuse about telling Primula about dinner.

"I'm sorry, I think she's a little shy about meeting all of you." Bilba apologized while the dwarrow chuckled.

"Don't worry yourself, children can be shy, and we're a large group to meet. No doubt, we're intimidating her." Bombur offered and Bilba shot him a grateful smile. He had children too, young boys who looked about the same age as Raven.

"I'll go see about the food, you should all settle in." Bilba said and then hurried towards the smial after Raven.

* * *

Upon entering, she found her daughter and Primula working on several loaves of bread. They'd made the dough earlier in the day and stored it. This time, Bilba hadn't dared to be completely unprepared for the dwarrow. Not to mention, cooking had helped to soothe her nerves while she had waited.

"Is everything alright?" she asked as Raven looked over at her and then flushed scarlet.

"Yes, Ma, I'm sorry, I just got nervous." Bilba smiled gently and went over to her daughter.

"It's perfectly fine to be nervous." she assured Raven, kissing her daughter's temple.

"So, you're not upset with me?" Raven asked, sounding absolutely miserable.

"Of course I'm not!" Bilba exclaimed. "You'll have plenty of other chances to meet them. Now, why don't you finish up with those loaves and I'll take these pies out to be baked." Raven nodded and Bilba hefted her tray of meat pies. Many of the dishes that she was preparing had been done the day before. They'd had a feast, but she hadn't been careless enough to prepare everything. Especially after Kíli's words, Bilba hadn't been able to sleep so instead she'd worked on a better feast. She had pies and scones, cookies and turnovers, and everything else that she could think of making. She hadn't slept at all the night before, but she didn't mind. She had wanted to do this, had needed the time to think about the future.

* * *

The pies were baked, as well as the scones and the bread. The desserts were in, and Bilba was feeling proud of herself when she caught Thorin's eye. The Company had been settling in and she hadn't seen him since he refused to apologize. He had washed his face and changed his tunic. He wore a dark blue one now, and Bilba was fairly certain that her heart skipped a beat as he came towards her.

"Bilba," he said, stopping in front of her.

"Thorin, we need to talk," Bilba blurted.

"Ma! Primula needs you!" Raven's call interrupted them, and they started back from each other.

"After the meal, perhaps?" Thorin suggested.

"Of course." Bilba nodded politely, and hurried back towards the smial. As she went, however, she was unable to shake the feeling of unease. Things had never been exactly easy with Thorin. Their recent conversation, however, held a foreign formality.

* * *

Bilba buried herself in preparation for the meal. When they finally all sat down, it was a lively dinner. There was singing and laughter and no few compliments on her cooking. Even Raven began to come out of her shell. Bilba spied her chatting with the younger dwarrow and couldn't help but smile. This was the life that she had always wanted for her daughter. Nights filled with feasting and laughter. Unintentionally, Bilba sought out Thorin's figure, aware that he too was watching Raven. Somehow aware of Bilba's attention, however, Thorin turned to her.

"Might I have a word?" Thorin asked softly, but he might as well have yelled. Around the table the Company, then the other dwarrow, and even Raven and the younger dwarrow froze.

"Of course." Bilba nodded, rising along with Thorin.

"We'll be right back." she said to be polite.

"Bilba," Kíli hesitated, Fíli standing silently at his side.

"It's fine. Your uncle and I do need to talk." Bilba said, not taking her eyes off of Thorin, who snapped something at Kíli in Khuzdul. In the back of her mind, Bilba knew that she ought to learn the language. For the present, however, she bristled at the tone that Thorin took with Kíli.  _This is all my fault,_  she lamented, looking at the glares on both of the faces.

"Enough. I'll talk to Thorin, boys. I also want you all to be aware that I don't want any fighting here on my farm, and especially not in front of Raven." Bilba glared at all involved while Raven ducked her head. No doubt, the girl was embarrassed. Around the table, however, the dwarrow were nodding and agreeing.

"Aye, it's not appropriate."

"She doesn't need to see any fighting."

"Not in front of the wee lassie." Bilba knew that Raven would be humiliated, but she had to ignore the face for the present.

"Of course." Thorin nodded to Bilba, standing and then bowing to her. "Now, shall we take a stroll?" he asked while Bilba blinked in confusion at his behavior. Things were undeniably strange with Thorin. First, his silence instead of an apology, and now his bow. Bilba swallowed tightly. All of her hopes that things could return to how they were before seemed to flee. In its place, her fear of losing Raven returned with a vengeance. Silently, she allowed Thorin to lead her away from the tables and out of earshot.

"You wanted a word?" she couldn't help the rebuke that colored her tone when they were finally far enough away from the others.

"If you have the time," Thorin hefted a brow in her direction. His change of attitude with her, his hesitation made her pause as well. Since they had first met, Thorin had never been hesitant, nor had she. The fights that they got in had Dwalin, the boys and then the rest of the Company rushing to separate them. Of course, once they'd begun courting it only ever got worse. Not to mention, the Company had become less certain of whether or not to interfere.

"I wanted to talk as well." Bilba forced herself to say. At the moment, however, all she wanted was to turn and disappear back into the hobbit hole. The silence stretched between them until Bilba couldn't take it any longer.

"Are you going to talk to me?" Bilba finally blurted.

"I was giving you the chance to have your say." Thorin replied cryptically.

"You've never been so avoidant with me before." Bilba said, regarding him with no small amount of suspicion.

"A lot's happened." Bilba glared.

"Well, you asked me to talk, so you can start." Bilba snapped, feeling irritable. Mostly, she thought, it was because she didn't know how else to respond.

"Raven. She's my daughter. Why have you seen fit to keep her a secret from me?" Bilba blinked. She knew that it was a reasonable question, but she winced all the same at his directness.

"I was afraid you'd take her from me." Bilba met his gaze. "You pardoned me?"

"You did nothing wrong. You were trying to protect us." Bilba winced at the flat tone that Thorin used. "You thought I'd steal your daughter?"

"I thought you still wanted me dead. So yes, I took her and I hid her. I thought you might have wanted revenge." Bilba replied dully. "If you're not here for Raven then, why did you come?"

"I did come for Raven." Thorin replied evenly. "You're right, she's my daughter, and I want to be there for her."

"So, you'll take her then?" Bilba asked hollowly.

"You really think I'm here to steal your daughter?" Thorin fixed her with a glare.

"She's yours as well, why wouldn't you want her? You can provide for her unlike I can. You see this farm, it's not fancy. We survive, but we've had times it comes close. I don't have money, I can barely clothe and feed her, why shouldn't you want to spirit her away? Or, are you ashamed of her like the rest of the Shire wants me to be? You never cared to look in on me before. You never bothered to come back to the Shire, so why now? Dwalin sent you a raven and you came for me or for our daughter? Don't you dare tell me that it's in my head either. You're barely talked to me, you spent dinner staring at her. What else then could I possibly assume but that you aren't here for me? And who else would you be here for but Raven?" Bilba demanded. She knew that her voice was rising into shrillness. She didn't care though because the fear of the past sixteen years was rushing over her. She had missed him, had missed all of them so badly, and yet looking at Thorin, hearing him speak about Raven. It was everything she'd ever feared. He was here, and whether he meant it or not, he wasn't going to leave Raven with her.

"You're right." Thorin growled, stepping closer to her, "what I've done in the past, was wrong. What I did to you was wrong. It doesn't mean, however, that my daughter should live here in these squalid conditions. So, if you think that I'll leave her with you when I leave so that she can continue to starve then you're out of your mind."

"She is my daughter, Thorin, she is everything to me, and if you think I'll let you take her. It's no wonder I never wanted you to know about her!" Bilba fumed.

"So you were keeping her a secret to spite me!" Thorin bellowed.

"Of course not! I did what I did because I had to keep her safe! She is my daughter, my child to protect and you almost killed her once before! How could I ever let you take her after that?" Bilba finished in a whisper as her eyes burned with tears and she stepped closer as well.

"You don't forgive me. Fine. But you do not get to drag our daughter into this. I won't tolerate it!" she could feel Thorin's breath on her face.

"How long do I have to say goodbye?" Bilba demanded, her voice cold as she fought to lock down her emotions. It was something that she was used to now she supposed. After all, returning to the Shire had done nothing if not toughen her skin.

"Stop this!" Bilba froze, turning to see Fíli standing beside them. It was only then that she realized that the whole of the camp was watching them. They had abandoned their dinner to come and intervene. Bilba searched the faces, looking for Raven, and then cursed when she failed to see her.

"Where's Raven?" she asked softly, the fight going out of her.

"Raven?" Fíli turned, spinning in a visible panic.

"She's gone, Bilba." It was Primula who spoke. "She took off when you started yelling, she's headed into the woods, same as usual."

"I'll go after her, I'm sorry, I'll be better with her in the future." Fíli said immediately.

"No," Bilba interjected. "Let her be, Fíli, she knows these woods. It's not unusual either for her to flee when she's upset. You'll never find her and if anyone goes after her she'll only run further. Leave her be and she won't go far. It's the Shire too, she'll be safe."

"She wasn't last time." Fíli blurted and Bilba froze. His own eyes widened, as though the words had slipped out before he could stop himself.

"What happened?" Thorin demanded from behind her.

"She'll be safe as long as none of you go after her. She won't go far, she's my own daughter and I know her!" Bilba spat, ignoring Thorin as her anger refocused, this time on the unfortunate Fíli.

"You got kidnapped from here, Bilba! From your own home. Raven is your daughter, but you have to accept that it isn't safe here! At least not anymore!" Fíli replied and Bilba froze.

"And speaking of safety and what happened last time? When Raven was yours to protect? Speaking of which, when are you going to do something with those hobbits that you've apprehended? The ones sitting in your custody, are you going to put them to the sword? Use a method of punishment never seen before in the Shire? Or are you going to continue to forget about them?" Bilba demanded, her voice going shrill as she thought about the hobbits. She hadn't seen them, but she knew that Lotho Sackville-Baggins was amongst them. No doubt, she had other cousins there too. Of course, it wasn't to say that she didn't want revenge. Rather, they were still her family and ultimately, it would be their blood on her hands. No matter how much Bilba wanted to hurt them for what they did to Raven, taking their lives could never take back their actions.

"You know that they deserve to be punished! You heard what they did to Raven, to your daughter!" Fíli's eyes flashed, "you of all people should understand that we need to act now! We need to make sure that they never again underestimate us! If we do nothing then we do not protect Raven. Then, she remains fair game to everyone who would think to hurt her. I for one will not tolerate that. So yes, I will put the sword to their throats. I will do it and I will not hesitate either because someone has to show the world that they are willing to fight for that child."

"So now you're questioning my ability to parent too?" Bilba demanded coldly. "I have fought for her. I've fought for her with everything I have. Obviously, however, everything I have wasn't enough. It never was enough for any of you. So, why don't you two just take her and leave then since I'm so unfit to care for her?"

"Bilba, no, that's not what I meant, not at all." Fíli protested, his face falling, but all Bilba could feel was the fear. It clawed at her, and she only knew how to keep lashing out; how to defend herself in a last fruitless effort. She'd known that this would happen. Raven loved Fíli already. If he asked, she'd go with him. Bilba knew it for a fact and she feared it.

"Of course you didn't mean to say it that way, but that's what you're all here for! To make sure that Raven gets the best out of life. Don't you think I want that for my daughter too? But how can I let her go with you knowing what happened to me? I forgive you because I love you. That's it's my decision. I can't do that for Raven though because she's my daughter. I've given everything that I have to make sure that she's safe and happy, and I don't know that she'll be safe with you. It was dwarrow after all who kidnapped me and wouldn't they have wanted her too? What would happen if she became a part of their schemes to overthrow you?" Bilba sighed, running a hand through her hair in frustration. She glared at Thorin, Fíli, and the rest of the Company who were now watching. "If you can promise me that she'll be safe, from kidnappers and assassins, then she can go with you." Bilba whispered, feeling as the fight left her.

She knew that she had friends. She had missed them all so much and yet she also knew that they couldn't stay. What was worse, he now knew that when they left they would take Raven with them. Her Raven. Her treasure. Her daughter.  _Perhaps, it is better_ , Bilba reflected. Her thoughts drifted back to the conversations that she'd been a part of in Rivendell.  _After all, there is an evil ring to destroy, and I can't do that and care for Raven at the same time._  With that desperate thought still echoing in her mind she turned on her heel and fled back up the hill. Bilba pushed past her friends until she had reached the safety of her smial.


	17. sixteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin regrets his words and gets a second chance with Raven.

**AN:**  Thank you for all the awesome comments and to everyone who left kudos! :) In honour of Canadian Thanskgiving/the fall study break here's two chapters in one week! Looking forward to hearing what you thought! The story's not exactly going in the direction I thought it would, but I'm definitely excited to keep writing! Looking forward to hearing from you and happy belated Canadian Thanksgiving!

* * *

 

_sixteen_

Thorin

* * *

 

**_Buckland, by the Old Forest_ **

**_early November 2958_ **

He watched as Bilba fled up the hill back into the smial. It was all he could do to watch her retreat. Thorin felt as though he was trapped in a state of shock. He had longed to see her. For decades, he had despaired at the prospect of ever seeing her again. Moments ago, however, she had stood in front of him in the flesh. He had felt the warmth of her body, had yearned to reach out and run his fingers through her hair, but he hadn't.  _Why_ , he berated himself,  _why didn't I fall to my knees in front of her and beg. She asked for an apology. That was it. A simple verbal apology Why couldn't I just give it to her?_  Thorin looked back up the hill, watching as she disappeared inside of the smial. He knew why he hadn't,  _because it's not the dwarrow way to just say "sorry"_. Still, she was slipping through his fingers in front of his very eyes, and he felt unable to stop it.

"Well that was nicely done." Kíli spat. Thorin looked over to both of his nephews, torn between helplessness and anger. Fíli at least looked equally shamed and confused. Bilba had lashed out at them, and though she had every right to do so, it was still a surprise. Kíli had always hated what had happened with Bilba. His youngest nephew always blamed Thorin for what had transpired. This latest scene was simply making matters worse.

"I only wanted to do what is best for Raven." Fíli said hollowly.

"And what about what's best for Bilba? Raven won't be happy unless Bilba is happy. You have to know that, Fí. You've come into her life for a matter of seconds in comparison. She's not going to leave Bilba. Come now, Fí, you of all people should know the importance of family." Kíli said flatly and then he turned on his heel heading towards where his she-elf waited. Thorin scowled. _If an elf and a dwarf can love each other, can overcome age-long prejudices then, why can't my hobbit and I be happy?_

"What did you say to her to make her fly into such a rage?" Fíli turned back on Thorin once Kíli was gone.

"Nothing!" he snapped irritably, feeling that the day had become unbearably long. He had not been officially introduced to his daughter and yet she was already running from him.  _Perhaps,_  he admitted to himself,  _it isn't Bilba who is the unfit parent, but me_.

"Well, clearly you said something." Fíli protested hotly.

"Where are the hobbits she spoke of?" Thorin demanded, changing the subject. "And, what happened to Raven? I was told that she was in a fight." his daughter's name still felt foreign on his tongue, but he liked the way that it felt to say it.

"She was attacked. Hobbits thought that they could beat and rape her because of Bilba's status." Fíli's jaw locked, his words tense and Thorin could feel the anger rippling off of his nephew.

"Bilba's status, the elf said that she had been shunned, but please Fíli, what does that mean? They're hobbits. They're not warriors, they're cheerful and loving. Why would they hurt her or Raven? Why would Bilba give up her home? She always talked about returning to it. I didn't imagine that they would be living this far from the others. It would be incredibly difficult here to get groceries and it's not safe either. What did Bilba even mean by not having enough money or food?" Thorin eyed his surroundings a second time. The fears that had been plaguing him resurfaced.  _Have I caused Bilba's misfortune? Was it not exaggeration that she was suffering? Could I have stopped it if I came back to myself sooner? If I realized that she was there in the battle and acted on it?_

_Bilba had seemed thin, so was Raven,_  he realized as he thought about it. The years had been hard on them both, but he didn't understand why. Or, perhaps it was that he was afraid of the answers, of the truth. He was the cause. When Thorin had heard that Bilba was alive and with their daughter he had imagined them living in Bag End. It wasn't until he had arrived and seen the conditions that she lived in that it struck him. All this time, Bilba had been alone. His Bilba had been fighting to survive. He had endured poverty before, but he always had the support of his community. He had never been close to starving. Not really. Bilba, however, had been alone. She and Raven, had been cast out, left to fight for their survival without any support.

Thorin sighed. Bilba'd had such a nice hobbit hole when they had come to collect her for the quest. He could clearly remember her talking early on about returning to it. He also didn't think that she was poor. She'd said as much to him when the Company had talked about their gold prize money. While they all dreamed about riches, she had laughed and said she had no need of it.  _Why then, were they out here starving?_ Hobbits did not, as he understood, have any form of formal law. Bilba was horrified by the punishment that Fíli intended for the hobbits in his custody. Such justic, therefore, was not commonplace in the Shire.  _How then could hobbits possibly have exiled Bilba?_

Obviously, something had happened, Thorin knew that much. During the quest he had travelled with Bilba. They lived side by side for months and he had fallen in love with her. He had known in that period that she was his One; that he would give anything and everything for her. Still, the longer that he was here in the Shire, the less he felt that he knew her at all. After all, how could he have loved her when he knew so little about hobbits? He would never give up on getting her back, on gaining her honest forgiveness. Still, if things could ever work out, if they could ever move past his Gold Sickness then he knew he had to be better.  _Start with learning about hobbit society,_ he told himself. That, and speaking to her. Earlier, when he should have talked with her, when he should have apologized he had attacked her. Thorin growled at himself under his breath. He wished for the thousandth time that he could take it all back, that he could have a chance to do it again. Unfortunately, no such miracle happened. No such miracle though had ever happened.

"You need to speak to Bilba." Fíli said, before glancing back at the smial. "Well, if you can manage to control that temper of yours." he amended and Thorin shot his nephew a glare. He was not amused by the commentary. He always knew that he was bad at talking to Bilba. His Company had often laughed at him for it before. Still, having it reiterated did nothing to help matters nor to soothe his pride.

"Take me to see the hobbits and if Raven returns, I want to know." Thorin said, and his nephew nodded. Fíli moved off, speaking softly to Dwalin who was also glaring in his direction. Then, Fíli returned and Thorin found himself following his nephew away from the camp. There was a change in the way that Fíli held himself, Thorin thought. Of course Fíli always looked regal, or at least he had since assuming the title of heir of Erebor. Still, there was a confidence and maturity that Thorin was unaccustomed to seeing. They entered the woods, walking a ways away from the smial.

"I didn't want Raven to have to see them again. After what they did to her-" Fíli suddenly trailed off as they stopped at the edge of a clearing.

Two dwarrow stood guarding the hobbits, however, they were not what caused Fíli to pause. Thorin looked around his nephew's shoulder to see Raven standing at the edge of the clearing. She had her back to them but didn't turn even though they hadn't been quiet. Thorin thought that she had been lost in her thoughts. After all, those were the only times that he'd been able to sneak up on Bilba. Thorin paused for a moment, taking in the appearance of his daughter. From the back she looked almost like Dís. Thorin also couldn't fail to notice the hair clasps that his sister had no doubt placed in the three thick braids. He immediately recognized his own. Seeing the silver with the crown and seven stars of Durin made him feel immediately proud. He could barely make out the familiar shapes. The blue stone that he had carefully set into the bead, however, identified it as his own immediately. In regard to the seven stars, all three clasps were similar. After all, the seven stars marked them both as family and as royalty descended from Durin. Thorin stepped forward, his eyes on his own bead. He remembered when he had braided it into Bilba's hair. Then, it had been as a sign of their marriage. A sudden swell of unease rose in his chest. He had never imagined that she would give it up. Fíli set a hand on his shoulder, freezing him, and he glanced at his nephew. The other two beads belonged to Dís and Fíli respectively; claiming Raven as their kin. Thorin wasn't so blind that he'd been unaware of Fíli's protectiveness of his daughter. Still, it made a ripple of annoyance rush through him as he eyed his nephew. Raven, after all, was his daughter, and he wanted to be the father figure in her life. In spite of his longing, however, it wasn't to him that she turned. Instead, it was to Fíli.  _One day,_  Thorin promised himself,  _one day, she will come to me._

"Raven," Fíli stepped forward, gently spinning her around. She jumped, paling as she looked up and met first Fíli's and then Thorin's gaze.

"Fíli," she said, looking back to her cousin and ignoring Thorin. He didn't want to admit that her disinterest hurt, but it did.

"What are you doing here, Raven? You have your  _Amad_  worried." Fíli said softly, and Thorin watched silently as his nephew interacted with his daughter. If he was going to have a successful relationship with Raven, he had to know how to be her friend. In that moment, Thorin felt a rush of determination not to mess up. Not again.

"Ma knows I'm fine. This is our home, and nothing's going to happen here, not that I can't protect myself against." Raven returned, and Thorin wasn't sure whether to smile or berate his daughter.

Certainly she sounded like Bilba, even that tilt of her chin was Bilba. He suspected, however, if he asked Dís then his sister would say that Raven sounded like him.  _Perhaps, she has an even mix of the both of us,_  Thorin decided. Certainly her determination was endearing, though she was also shy. He could have his head buried as far into the sand as possible, but her nervousness was clear. As she talked, Raven had snuck glances his way. Each time that she realized he was watching, however, she was quick to look away.

"You need to be careful, Raven. These lands haven't been as safe recently." Fíli warned gently. "And yes, I know that you can defend yourself. I've trained you myself, but that doesn't mean that you should go off wandering alone either. You're very important to Bilba and to the rest of us. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you again. None of the other dwarrow would forgive themselves either."

"I didn't leave to make you worry though." Raven protested. "I just wanted to see the hobbits, and don't I have that right? They attacked me after all and, anyways, you let Ma have time alone last night so why can't I have the same?"

"Yes, but-" Fíli began and Thorin sighed.

He respected the way that his nephew spoke to Raven. However, he also had experience. He'd had a similar conversation first with Dís, and then years later with each of his nephews. In this regard at least Thorin knew better than Fíli, or at least he hoped so. Raven was young, painfully so according to dwarrow standards. Still, he suspected that she'd lived with little supervision when it came to wandering. Moreover, she had also been raised amongst hobbits. According to them, sixteen was an acceptable age for wandering and growing independence.

"Enough, Fíli." he said, and Raven and Fíli both turned to look at him with wide eyes. Again, for a moment, Thorin was struck by the familial resemblance. The blood of Durin clearly ran strong in his child. Certianly, she had Bilba's nose, and her features were delicate, like his hobbit's, but Durin's blood was strong.

"Uncle," Fíli began, but Thorin glared him into silence.

"Your Ma has allowed you to roam the area alone?" Thorin asked, feeling as though this conversation might be the most important of his life.

"She never stopped me." Raven replied, and Thorin fought the smile that her answer stirred in him. Across from him, her eyes narrowed. P _erhaps,_  he amended,  _the twitch of my lips wasn't quite as hidden in my beard as I thought_.

"I see, and would she approve of you being here?" Thorin asked.

"She doesn't want them killed," Raven shrugged. "If she thought she'd get it, she'd demand an apology from them, a promise not to do it again and then let them go. It's not the hobbit way to hold a grudge."

"I see, and what do you want to do?" Thorin asked. Raven's eyes widened in surprise and then she frowned, thinking about her answer.

"Uncle!" Fíli protested softly, and Thorin glared his heir once more into silence.

"I want to know why they did it before I decide anything." Raven replied, and Thorin had to admit that her answer surprised him. He had assumed that she would demand some kind of vengeance, but instead she used logic.

"Their answer, it likely won't be something that you want to hear." Thorin warned.

"They never say anything we want to hear, but it doesn't mean they act without reason." Raven said, glancing over her shoulder. "The one who attacked me, he's our cousin. My Aunt Lobelia, his Ma, took Bag End from my Ma. She's the reason we aren't allowed in the rest of the Shire. She wanted Ma shunned, and she didn't stop until she got her way. I just wanted to know why our living here wasn't enough." Raven looked down, her voice trailing off from determination into uncertainty. He said nothing, but her words tore at Thorin from the inside. The hobbit who had dared lay a hand on his daughter had also made her homeless and penniless. In spite of the injustice against her, however, Raven still blamed herself. Thorin rippled in anger at the thought.

"Raven, look at me." he demanded, stepping closer to her. She had seemed tall beside Bilba, but was not so next to Thorin. For a moment, he was reminded just how petite his hobbit was.  _How had she survived the birth?_  he wondered, before forcing his thoughts back to his daughter. Gently, he reached out, running a careful hand through her hair and then down to cup her chin. Reluctantly, she lifted her eyes as well to peer at him.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-" she began, an he shook his head, cutting her off.

"You should have." he corrected. "I was not able to be a part of your life before, but I am here now. I would like to be a part of your future if you'll have me, however, I can only do that if you trust me. I love your Ma. I will do anything to earn her forgiveness. Before though, when we travelled, we didn't learn much about hobbits or their culture. It was our lack of foresight because we were too caught up in teaching your Ma how to be a dwarf. Perhaps, together, you might help me remedy that?" Thorin searched Raven's gaze, hoping for any trace of acceptance.

"You mean like teach you about hobbit ways?" Raven frowned, and Thorin's heart fell.

"Yes, exactly." Thorin nodded encouragingly.

"I'd like to, but I'm not a hobbit," Raven tried to look down, but Thorin refused to let her slip away. "I mean," she paused, realizing that he was not going to let her go so easily, "I'm a shunned dwobbit. I've never been a proper hobbit." Thorin felt her cheek warm as she flushed, "I'd be letting you down." She tired again to draw away, but he refused to let her go.

"You can never let me down." he insisted, watching as her eyes searched his nervously. "You are my daughter, Raven. I am so proud of you now, and I promise you, I will always be."

"I want to trust you, but then why didn't you apologize to Ma earlier?" Raven frowned.

"Because I'm a fool." Thorin replied and she frowned.

"But, you're King and," she stopped herself, to Thorin's annoyance. He wanted to know what she was about to say. When she failed to say anything else, however, he knew better than to keep waiting.

"I am king, but that doesn't mean I don't make mistakes." Thorin corrected.

"But you led the Company to reclaim the Mountain from a  _dragon_  and the dwarrow, they all love you." Raven protested.

"So you think that you can't help me? That you let me down?" Thorin frowned and Raven nodded.

"I'm just a shunned dwobbit." she muttered.

"Never." Thorin protested. "You are my daughter, a descendant of Durin and Princess in your own right. The fact that you're a dwobbit," he stumbled over the unfamiliar word, "makes you more special. You see, you are your  _Amad's_ daughter, and I love her. She has been everything for me. I would give up everything, the crown, the kingdom, my wealth, my pride,  _everything_  for her. Raven, if it means that I can have the both of you in my life then no price is too high." Her eyes filled with tears, and without thinking he drew her towards him. He embraced her and then thin arms wrapped around him, hugging him back.

"Please don't go! Please, apologize to Ma. She's so happy with the Company here, she was so sad before, and I don't want her to be upset or scared anymore." Raven whispered.

"I don't intend to leave you." Thorin whispered as he held her. He stroked his daughter's soft thick hair, silently thanking Mahal for this blessing. To the side, he was aware of Fíli watching with a little smile.

"Raven, I'm going to need your help," Thorin finally drew away as the sniffles trailed off.

"With?" she asked, puzzled.

"Well, years ago your Ma told the Company and me that she was coming along with us because we didn't have a home. She was willing to fight a dragon to get our home back. She said that it wasn't fair that our enemy had taken our home from us in the first place. As I understand, your cousins took her home, and I want to give it back." Thorin said, but instead of the excitement that he had expected, Raven drew back.

"Then we'll stay in the Shire?" she whispered.

"Well yes, for the winter at least." Thorin frowned.

"Oh." Raven's face fell and Thorin felt a pang.  _How,_ he wondered  _can I possibly feel so weakened by a frown._  Thorin had raised Fíli and Kíli as if they were his own. Over the years, he had given in so many times to their begging. The quiet disappointment from Raven, however, was a thousand times worse than Kíli's begging.

"We're not going to leave without you, not if you and Bilba don't want us to." Thorin and Raven turned back to Fíli, who had spoken.

"Of course not," Thorin hurried. Following Fíli's train of thought he realized why Raven had been upset. Inwardly, he cursed himself, feeling all the worse for making such a stupid mistake. Of course to Raven it would not sound as though they would be together. It would sound like he wanted to get Bilba's home back to leave them there alone. "I want to give your Ma her home back because what happened to her was my fault. I wish to give her the world at her fingertips. You see, in dwarrow culture, we cannot simply apologize." Raven's gaze locked onto his face. She was clearly listening with wrapt attention to everything he said. "If we do apologize but cannot offer anything as a promise of our sincerity then it is the worst kind of disrespect. I think, perhaps apologies are simpler for hobbits. I could not simply apologize to your mother, regardless of her culture, because I knew that in the eyes of my people I would shame her." Raven's eyes went wide at his revelation. "You see then why I want to give your Ma everything that she should have had. It does not mean that I want either of you to remain in the Shire, it is just a sign of my true sincerity." Thorin felt the need to elaborate for Raven's sake.

"Okay." Raven nodded slowly, and it was Thorin's turn to frown. "I'll help you, where I can." Thorin began to smile. "I think you need to go to the Thain, beg him to revisit Ma's punishment. If you tell him who you are, and that you and Ma were, or well, are," Raven hesitated, "married, he might be more lenient." Raven paused, searching his gaze for signs that he might be angry. Instead, Thorin made sure to smile and nod. At his encouragement, she continued. "Aunt Primula always said that Ma used to be his favorite granddaughter, but because of me he had no choice. He had to agree to shun her because she brought such shame to the family name." Raven rambled on and Thorin winced again.

"Wait, granddaughter?" Fíli interrupted, and Raven frowned at the shock in his tone. "The Thain, I met with him, and two others. They both looked to him to make the decisions. He is Bilba's grandfather? Your great-grandfather?"

"Yes, Ma lived with him before she came of age. Her Ma, was his favorite daughter. He was upset when she died during the Fell Winter and seeing as Ma was an orphan he took her under his wing. I think he was also pretty upset that she left with you without telling him. She was barely of age too, he had only just let her move out on her own. Then, she came back in disgrace. He took it personally, or at least that's what Aunt Primula says." Raven shrugged.

"So in terms of respect in the Shire, and family honor, you Ma was akin to what Kíli or I are in dwarrow society. Royalty in a sense?" Fíli asked and Raven hesitated, unsure of how to respond.

"Well, the Thain might have appointed my Grandma as his heir, but it is unlikely that he would have named Ma. Unless he lives a lot longer and his own children are too old. I mean, a lot of hobbits also wanted to court her before. Even though she was odd, Bag End's the biggest single-family hobbit hole in all of the Shire. From what I understand too, she would have had a lot of money as well." Raven shrugged.

"I will seek out this Thain and beg his forgiveness. I will promise him protection and trade with Erebor in return for his cooperation. Then, I will see your Ma and you back inside of Bag End once again." Thorin promised. Raven nodded, but shivered slightly. He might not have seen it, but with his hand still cupping her cheek he could feel it. The sun was going down though, and it was cooling off quickly. Without thinking he shed his fur-lined coat, wrapping it around her. She stiffened momentarily, but when he drew it closed around her she let a hand slip out to hold it fast about her. She was only wearing a thin dress, and it seemed rather too small for her anyways.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"We should get back to the smial soon, but first I believe you wanted to speak to the hobbits?" he said, not exactly liking the idea, but knowing that he still had to make some concessions. He had only just become her father after all. Giving her the opportunity to be an adult, especially while he was there to protect her seemed only fair. She was not after all, some naive child. She was his daughter and she was far more mature than he had ever expected.

"You're going to let me talk to them?" Raven looked up at him in wonder.

"I will, however, I want you to know why I'm permitting this." Thorin replied and Raven nodded solemnly. "Firstly, because I am here. I know, you are learning to defend yourself. I do not want you putting yourself in danger however, not when you're alone. You see, even the most experienced warrior can need help sometimes. Certainly, I have needed help before, and I know that Fíli and Dwalin have as well. They're very accomplished warriors and you're still training. It's not a bad thing to need help, but it is irresponsible to be needlessly reckless. Secondly, I am allowing this because you are right, you are a dwobbit. I was too focused before on teaching Bilba the way of the dwarrow. I did not spend enough time learning about hobbit culture. I want you to be a true dwobbit, to have both cultures as part of your life, and forgiveness is a part of your hobbit culture. My third reason, however, requires one thing from you yet," Thorin paused. "I want you to ask me," Raven frowned but he continued. "I want you to ask me if you may speak to the hobbits."

"May I speak to the hobbits," Raven asked, lightly chewing on her lip in apparent nerves. She paused, however, Thorin was fairly certain that she wasn't finished. "Your highness?" she added at the end and Thorin froze.

"Thorin. You may call me Thorin, Raven, though one day I hope that I might earn your love and trust enough for you to call me  _Adad._ " Thorin hoped that he had not gone too far in voicing his hope. For a moment, Raven didn't respond, but then a smile broke across Raven's face and she nodded. "And, since you've met my third condition let's go and see about these hobbits."

 

* * *

Thorin watched as Raven spoke to the hobbits. She was quiet and, at least to him, appeared very calm. Thorin knew that he was a bad example when it came to restraint. Even Bilba had restraint issues at times, though perhaps it was the dwarrow who brought that out in her. Raven, however, was perfectly restrained. Inwardly, Thorin strove to mirror her responses. Throughout the meeting, he remained tense, ready to draw his blade if it was needed. The hobbits were not exactly crass, not when there were so many dwarrow present. Still, Thorin thought that they were using insinuations that only Raven could understand.  _All more parts of hobbit culture that I need to learn_ , Thorin lamented with a resolve to fix his lack of knowledge.

The aspect that confused him the most were the flowers. The hobbits had none, but continued to speak to Raven using flower-themed sobriquets. Thorin couldn't say what any of them meant, but he knew that they were rude. The ring-leader had taken to calling Raven "Cousin Aconite." Thorin wasn't sure either what the flower was or what it meant. Upon first hearing it, however, Raven had immediately stiffened. Her face had twisted into a scowl before she could stop herself. As abruptly as her discontent had come, however, she'd regained control of her emotions. The look of neutrality that she had assumed had startled even Thorin.

"I'm done with them." she finally announced and Thorin nodded.

"Did you get the answers you wanted? Why did they attack you?" Thorin voiced his question after they had walked away from the clearing. He had been certain then that they were out of ear shot, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him.

"Well, they attacked me because they thought it would make a good story. Lotho also likes Bag End. He figured if they ruined me then there would be no way that the Thain would ever welcome me to take over Bag End. Well, that and I'm a dwobbit, I'm exotic to them. They didn't know that the dwarrow were here, not at first. Certainly, they also didn't think that anything like this could possibly happen to them." Raven shrugged. Thorin shuddered at the way that his daughter was able to speak so carelessly in the face of such treatment. He knew that it bothered her, but she seemed used to similar sorts of abuse. At least, she had to be in order to handle this so calmly.

"What's aconite?" Fíli asked, and Raven paused.

"It's meant as a warning." Raven finally admitted. "It's poison, you see, so, no one ever gives it out lightly. Not unless they wish to start a feud between families, and those have been known to last generations."

"So he wants a feud between your families?" Thorin asked.  _If they wanted a feud, I'll be happy to fight in defense of my family,_  he thought. S _urely, the foolish hobbits did not count on the might of Erebor coming to bear on them._

"I don't think he expected us to retaliate. We've received threats before, but we ignored them. We're far out, and most people don't bother to follow through. It wasn't really like we could do anything anyways." Raven shrugged.

"If it came to a feud, we'd all fight for you. Every dwarf here would fight to the death for you and the full might of Erebor would be behind us." Thorin vowed, stopping and turning Raven to face him.

"I know." she offered him a shy smile, and his chest clenched painfully at the sight of it. This was what he had wanted, to protect his family and for them to know that they could count on him. Seeing the happiness in her gaze made him sure of his plan. He would return Bag End to them, and he would make sure that they never again had to face the threats of any hobbit.

"And every flower has a meaning?" Thorin asked, as they continued back towards the smial and Raven nodded.

"Do you know all of them?" he asked.

"Most." Raven shrugged

"And you know their meanings?" Thorin asked, another idea coming to his mind.

"Most." Raven repeated with a shrug. "You can't grow up in the Shire, even as a social outcast, and not know the most basic of meanings." she glanced his way. "Do none of you know any flower meanings?"

"Dwarrow don't use flowers as a language, so we're poorly versed." Thorin admitted.

"But didn't you give Ma flowers before? As a courting gift?" Raven looked up at him in confusion, and then glanced over at Fíli for some sort of confirmation.

"I did." Thorin fought the urge to shuffle his feet. He was no little dwarfling to be ashamed at the way he'd courted his One. At least, he hadn't thought so until he registered the look of disbelief on his own daughter's face.

"But which ones then did you give her?" Raven insisted.

"I'm not sure, I picked the ones I thought were the most beautiful." Thorin admitted.

"She liked them, she was happy." Fíli interjected, and Thorin gave him a thankful nod of acknowledgement. Returning his gaze to Raven, however, it was impossible not to notice the obvious despair in her gaze.

"And she had said that hobbits court with flowers." Thorin added in a clumsy attempt at self-defense.

"Well, they do, but they use the language of flowers. It's not just about giving them random one. You see, you give one flower at a time if want to be very cautious. It makes sure that none of the meanings are mixed up. So, if you're really in love with a hobbit, for example. Otherwise, you might give several smaller, themed bouquets. That way you are telling your intended what they mean to you. If the intended accepts all of the bouquets, then the courtship continues. If even one offering is rejected then the courtship ends. If you were to choose based off of appearance then, only Yavanna knows what you gave her in terms of a message. Probably, Ma understood that you had no idea what you were doing. Knowing her, she would have excused your message and accepted them anyways." Thorin fought the urge to bristle at his daughter's comment, but had to admit that he'd had no idea what he was doing. If every flower really did have a meaning, and it was a language, he had probably given Bilba the worst bouquet. Ever.  _And there I was thinking I had done something extraordinary, thoughtful, and observant,_ he regretted.

"Can you still get flowers in the winter?" he looked around at the desolate forest around them. In November, the greenery was gone. The flowers that might have carried his message of remorse, love, and dedication had long since passed.

"In town I think you can still get some. Aunt Primula said that there are greenhouses. The flowers there are expensive though, so most courtships happen during the summer months. There's also a better selection during those times. On occasion of course you hear of a winter courtship. Some hobbits order flowers to be grown in greenhouses to be used in courtship. It's an extra step, to show their intent. That, even in the dead of winter, they'll spend the money on the care of flowers. It's rare though, and usually winter courtships are the ones that need fast marriages. They're not really approved of. Anyways, if you were looking for flowers in the winter it might be difficult. Except for on special orders, greenhouses only stock the most basic of flowers." Raven informed him, and Thorin fought a grumble of frustration. "Aunt Primula's a good artist though, she could draw the good ones for you so you know what to look for. She used to be quite popular in terms of receiving such proposals. She might even have recommendations of where to go. You should talk to her about where to get flowers."

"An artist you say?" Thorin stopped walking, and Fíli and Raven both looked back at him in confusion.

"Yes, why?" Raven returned.

"I believe I have an idea." he smiled at her. "There's a forge here, aye?" he looked over at Fíli.

"Yes, we've done our best, but it's not as nice as the ones in Erebor. it can be quite fiddly to work with." Fíli replied, guessing at Thorin's meaning. Thorin nodded his understanding of his nephew's warning. No matter if Fíli said it was impossible, it couldn't diminish his determination. _Nothing but the best for Bilba,_  he thought.

"But you made me the amaryllis here didn't you? I've never seen anything so beautiful!" Raven interrupted and then flushed in embarrassment at her exclamation. Fíli, on the other hand smiled and exchanged another knowing glance with Thorin.

"You'll have to show me," Thorin suggested, and Fíli nodded.

"Of course." Thorin suspected that Raven hadn't had many fine gifts. Despite her lack of knowledge, however, he knew that Fíli would never give a present that wasn't perfect. Fíli had originally been his apprentice, although he was now a Master in his own right. Still, Thorin was interested to see the labour of his efforts. The boy had skill, and one day he would likely surpass Thorin, at least in terms of artistry. After all, Thorin had always preferred to focus on weapons. When trying to provide for Dís and the boys on the road his skill had also never had time to truly flourish. Fíli on the other hand had spent hours in the forge in Erebor perfecting his craft. One day, when political matters settled down Thorin longed to do the same. However, the opportunity had yet to present itself. Instead, when Thorin had spent every waking hour in the force he had been busy making routine things. He'd made hundreds, if not thousands of pots, pans, buckles and such; all that could be sold to put food on the table.  _No,_  Thorin thought,  _Fíli is the family's artist_.

"So you'll make Ma a bouquet?" Raven interrupted Thorin's musings.

"I believe I may try, but you'll keep this a secret from her, won't you? The bouquet and even Bag End? After all, I wouldn't want to ruin the surprise." Thorin replied.

"Of course." Raven nodded solemnly. "How's your cooking?" she added and he frowned while he heard a sound he was fairly certain was stifled laughter coming from Fíli.

"Why does my cooking figure into this?" he asked.

"Well, if Ma accepts your flower suit, the next step usually is to exchange food. You've expressed your feelings you see with the flowers. Then, there's nothing that is more important than food to hobbits. So, by presenting each other with food you're proving that you can provide for each other." Raven said.

"And are there meanings attached to food?" Fíli asked.

"Not exactly, but the more elaborate the dishes you prepare the better. You see, if you make something labour-intensive then your intended knows both that they can trust you to hold to your word. You've already begun that way by investing time and energy into your courtship. Of course though, you'd also never prepare anything that they didn't like. That's again demonstrating that you care." Raven said, and Thorin and Fíli exchanged a glance.

"How are you as a cook?" Thorin asked his daughter.

"I'm okay, but I haven't had much time to learn. You'd have to talk to Aunt Primula again." Raven shrugged, obviously unaware of how much of a help she was already being.

"I see, well, perhaps when we get back you can think of a reason for me to be able to speak with your Aunt Primula?" Thorin asked. He had known that winning Bilba back would likely be hard, but he was determined. After the horrible conversation that they'd had earlier he would not fail again. He could not.

"Don't worry, Pa. Ma loves you. She's never stopped. She doesn't say so, but I know it. She just needs to know that you feel the same way, and that whatever happened between you won't happen again. Doing all this? Courting her like a true hobbit? It will go a long way." Raven said. While his mind was still stuck on the fact that she had called him 'Pa,' she darted forward. He felt her press a soft kiss to his cheek and then she had turned and disappeared. Looking after her, he realized that they were already back at the edge of the camp.

"I'll ride at first light tomorrow, will you come with me? You've engaged in negotiations before with these hobbits." Thorin asked Fíli.

"Of course." Fíli nodded, and then reached out and set a hand on Thorin's shoulder. "Are you going to court her properly by dwarrow standards as well?" he asked.

"I believe it's only fair." Thorin replied. "Before, our courtship was rushed, and she was not properly educated. I'm fairly sure she did not know my final intentions. I won't make that mistake again. I want no more misunderstandings."

"Your courtship was poorly done." Fíli acknowledged, and Thorin scowled. "You'll fix it though, starting tomorrow. Like Raven said, hobbits don't hold grudges. You just have to remember that she's equally as afraid that she's lost you for good. Come though, we both need rest now if we're to be up early. Not to mention, you have your work cut out for you." Thorin nodded. Then, still in a haze, followed his nephew up towards the shelter.


	18. seventeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Fíli learn more about Raven and Bilba's life. They seek the Thain's forgiveness. Dís has enough of warring inside the family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Thanks for all the awesome reviews and for all the kudos! You guys are the best :) Please let me know what you think and what you want to see! Happy reading :)
> 
>  
> 
> Also, a Note on Khuzdul: 
> 
> I've decided that, for conversations in Khuzdul I'm going to use italics. I know it's maybe a little lazy, but I find it's easier to keep the story moving and well, since I'm not versed in Khuzdul, I'm sure if I tried to translate the conversations they'd be much more restricted and riddled with grammatical flaws! :)

 

* * *

 

_seventeen_

Fíli

 

* * *

 

**_Buckland, by the Old Forest_ **

**_1 November 2958_ **

It didn't surprise Fíli when Raven appeared in his bed that night. She crept into the strip of cot beside him and sleepily he wrapped his blankets around her. In spite of Thorin's plans for the future and his connection with Raven the hut had felt subdued. Kíli and Tauriel were sleeping elsewhere, his brother still upset with him and Thorin. Dís glared at the two of them, obviously unhappy about the fighting. As Raven settled against Fíli she stirred in her bed. No doubt the draft of cold November night air had woken her. Raven had been fast, opening the door only wide enough to slip in, but they were all light sleepers.

Although it was almost pitch black inside their shelter Fíli's keen eyes picked up on his  _Amad's_  indulgent smile. Since he and Kíli had grown up, Fíli had long suspected that she missed mothering them. Seeing her around Raven confirmed his suspicions. Fíli was curious, however, how she'd deal with having a half-elven grandchild. After all, seeing how close Kíli and Tauriel were, it could only be a matter of time. From his bed, Thorin also rose, looking for the source of the disturbance. Fíli caught the sight of a knife in Thorin's hand; he was always prepared for the worst. The huts were sturdy, but there were a few gaps in the planks that let in light from the full moon. One such ray hit the steel before Thorin could sheathe the blade. Dís frowned and Fíli could see the shock that crossed his uncle's face as he realized what had happened. The blade disappeared though Thorin's gaze didn't leave Fíli's bed. Their hut wasn't exactly close to the smial, and for Raven to show up in the middle of the night was surprising. At least, for Thorin. After all, dwarrow rarely sought comfort with each other. He and Kíli had been strangely close and a nearly unheard of case. For Raven crawl into bed with him at her age and considering how short a time they'd known each other. It was a show of loyalty that obviously touched Thorin. Meeting Thorin's gaze, Fíli wrapped a protective arm around Raven's form. Thorin, who had opened his mouth, likely to protest her presence stopped. Instead, with a sigh, Thorin settled back in his bedroll. In the dark quiet cabin, however, Fíli could see the faint moon light reflected in his uncle's gaze as he stared at them.

"This isn't the first time?" Thorin had asked softly, when Raven's breathing evened out once more.

"No." Fíli replied softly.

"She comes often?" Thorin pressed.

"Yes." Fíli acknowledged.

"Bilba knows?"

"Yes."

"Why does she come?" Fíli stiffened at Thorin's question.

"She has shared a bed with Bilba all of her life. The smial really only has one room. When Bilba was missing she took to Fíli for comfort. Since Bilba's been back she's been split." It was Dís who had replied.

"But why?" Thorin asked.

"Because Ma has bad dreams, and doesn't want to wake me up. She knows I can come here now, that I'll be safe, so if she has a bad dream then I slip out here. That way when she doesn't go back to sleep she won't feel bad about keeping me up." Fíli froze at Raven's voice. He had also thought that she was asleep. He supposed though that if she always shared a bed with Bilba then she'd be good at faking sleep.

"Bad dreams?" Thorin asked, and Fíli felt Raven shrug, even though the others couldn't see her, buried as she was in Fíli's bedding.

"Sometimes." Raven hesitated, and Fíli reached out, running a gentle hand through her hair. "She wouldn't want me to say." Raven whispered.

"We don't want to know to embarrass her, Raven. We want to know because war can be atrocious. We've all had nightmares, we know how difficult they can be. We also know that you can't heal by keeping it to yourself." Thorin said, while Fíli fought a shudder at the memory of his own night terrors.

Once upon a time he'd assumed that war would be glorious. As an over eager young dwarf he'd insisted on going on the Quest with Kíli to reclaim their birthright. They had assumed then it would be great fun. They had glorified the journey and, especially, the fighting. Then, finally, he had been in a battle. Far from the glory of the tales of Azanulbizar, the Battle of Five Armies had been the stuff of nightmares. He at least, however, had been a trained warrior. Other dwarrow like Ori had only the most basic of training. Thinking about Bilba, who had always been so gentle, facing the same terrors made shame well in his belly. Of course, she had fought as well, not only that, she had protected them selflessly. Alone she had stood and defended them when she thought that they hated her. It was simply a testament to the hobbit she was. After it all, she had then returned to her home, pregnant and alone again, in shame. Of course she too would have suffered the night terrors. With only Raven and her other kinswoman, she would not have had anyone to confide in either. At least, no one who knew how to properly treat and stop the nightmares.

"Raven, the dreams, they might eventually lessen. If you tell us about them, however, we may know how to help your  _Amad._ We might be able to make them stop." Fíli offered quietly.

"You promise though, you won't tell her that I said anything?" Raven whispered.

"I do. We all do." Thorin replied.

"She said they're from before. I think some are from the Quest, but she never really told me about your travels. I know when it's those ones because she has trouble sleeping, but they're not as bad. Not like the war ones. I know when she dreams about the war because she wakes up screaming. She can't help it, and even after she wakes up it takes her a while to go back to normal. Other times, I think she just missed you. She'd seem scared and lonely and she'd cry if she though Aunt Primula and I were asleep. She doesn't want me to know about any of them. She does her best to hide from me so most of the time I pretend to sleep through them." When Fíli had been almost sure that she would still refuse to say anything, Raven's soft voice filled the hut. Listening, Fíli's guilt soared once more. Bilba had suffered so much for helping them. It wasn't fair, and if Fíli had any say in his own future then he would be sure that he never abandoned her again. Not like that.

"Your Ma needs to speak to someone about her experiences." Thorin said softly. "Those of us who fought in the war, who survived Smaug's attack did. It's the best way of moving forward. We won't say anything, but if you get the opportunity to encourage your  _Amad_  to seek such help you should. Any of us would listen and help her where we could. We did that amongst ourselves before. We will always carry the memories, but the night terrors are rare."

"I'll try." Raven whispered. "Do you really think that they can get better?"

"Things, will get better Raven. I'll do my best to make it so, and in the meanwhile, you're always welcome here." Thorin said, and across the room, Fíli tried to meet his uncle's gaze. He could see that Thorin had sat up in his bed, and he suspected that he wasn't the only one feeling guilty.

"You should try to get some sleep, we'll try not to wake you in the morning when we get up. It's late now." Fíli said softly.

"Where are you going?" Raven demanded, a strong hand closing around his arm in panic.

"We have to see the Thain again, about revoking Bilba's shunning and returning Bag End and her money to her." Thorin replied.

"Oh." Raven replied.

"We'll be back before you know it. As fast as we can." Fíli added.

"You promise?"

"Promise." Fíli leaned down and kissed her forehead. "Now, try to sleep." he added and then he began to hum softly. It was an old song, the same one that he remembered singing that night in Bag End. Raven curled in against him with a small content smile on her face. A moment later, Thorin and Dís both joined in. Their deep-throated humming filled the hut. They sung no words, but before long Raven had sunk into true sleep in Fíli's arms.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Thorin woke him. Fíli kissed Raven's forehead and slipped sleepily out of the hut with Thorin. She had still been asleep when they left, but by the time that he standing at his saddled mount she had appeared.

"Why do you have to go now? Fíli you only just go back! Can't I at least come?" Raven demanded.

"Not right now." Thorin replied, and she pouted. Fíli saw the trouble in his uncle's guilty expression, and reached out, hugging Raven. Clearly, Thorin would have a lot of trouble disappointing Raven, not that Fíli could blame him.

"We'll be back soon, but you have to stay here with your  _Amad_. You can tell her we've gone to talk about the hobbits' future. She'll not be happy, but that way we can keep everything a surprise. You can't tell anyone, you know that right?" Fíli said hastily.

"Tell anyone what?" Kíli asked, and Fíli hesitated. He had not noticed Kíli at first. He knew though that since Kíli had heard, his little brother would never stop demanding answers. He knew that Kíli was still upset, but it felt distinctly uncomfortable to be fighting with his brother. They never fought. Not like this.

" _Your quarrel is with me, Kíli, not with your brother._ " Thorin asserted, judging the scene before him and speaking in quick Khuzdul. Raven frowned, looking between them, but none translated for her.

" _Both of you said things yesterday that Bilba did not deserve._ " Kíli replied, meeting Thorin's gaze.

" _We did, Kí, and we regret them. We're going now to make an amends._ " Fíli decided it was time to intercede.

" _How?_ " Kíli demanded.

" _We'll speak to the hobbit leaders. I'm going to explain that Bilba is my wife. I'll demand both that her shunning is revoked and that Bag End and her inheritance are returned to her._ " Thorin replied.

" _You think that will work?_ " Fíli flinched at the hostility in Kíli's voice. " _We hurt Bilba, you hurt her physically. You tried to kill her! Then, we turned on her after promising her that we would be her family forever. She already had nightmares before the war, they can't have gotten any better. She's been starving here, unable to protect or provide for herself or her daughter. Giving her some old hobbit hole won't fix everything._ "

" _I don't expect it to be a perfect fix either. All I want from this is for her to know that I am serious about my intentions. I hurt her, I will not leave her as I've found her if she does wish me out of her life. I can at least do that. In the meanwhile, I will continue to do everything and anything to gain her forgiveness."_  Thorin vowed.

" _You will court her again if she'll have you back. Properly this time and I will appoint myself as her kin."_  Kíli announced and Fíli froze. If Thorin dishonored Bilba again, in any way, then Kíli would be able to challenge him. Moreover, all of Thorin's intentions would have to pass not only Bilba's approval but also Kíli's. More significantly, however, it meant that Kíli was siding with Bilba over Thorin.

" _Very well._ " Thorin nodded. " _But, Fíli and I still must be off to make the arrangements. Do I have your permission Kíli son of Víli to present your Kinswoman with such a gift if I am successful?"_  Thorin asked very formally.

" _You have my permission to seek such arrangements, Thorin son of Thraín."_  Kili nodded.

Fíli smiled at Raven, murmuring to her that everything was alright. When Kíli held out a hand to her, Raven went to his brother without hesitation. Kíli did have a way of charming people into liking him. Even the she-elf loved him and they had been sworn enemies. Fíli tried to quell the jealousy he felt. It wasn't fair. He'd had so much time with Raven, and Kíli had only just met her. Fíli of course loved his little brother unconditionally, he would do anything for him. There was a part of him, however, that resented the attention that Kíli always got. When he had looked back to see Kíli and Raven standing side by side waving, he forced a smile. They both loved him, even if Kíli was upset with him right now, and it wasn,t as if he couldn't share Raven's affection. Clearly, his cousin had a tremendous amount of love in her heart. So, facing back to the road ahead, Fíli had done his best to forget his jealousy. That wasn't the kind of dwarf he wanted to be. So, he refused to let it interfere with the relationship that he had with Raven.

 

* * *

 

**_Buckland, by the Old Forest_ **

**_5 November 2958_ **

Returning to the smial, Fíli's belt felt too tight. It had felt the same way though after he had returned from meeting with the Thain for the first time. Since then he hadn't really had any pause in his eating either. If his time in the Shire continued to feed his belly this well then changes would have to be made. Otherwise, they'd all be fat and lazy and in no fit shape to even travel, much less to fight if need be. As his mount rounded the corner of the road, emerging from the forest and he could see both the back of the smial. A joy he had not expected to feel rushed through him. After all, the smial wasn't much. Certainly, it wasn't home, not according to his standards. The rush of relief and excitement that he felt at his return was one he usually equated with returning home.

It was true, he had missed Raven when he'd been away again. He'd missed the simple life he'd established at the smial. Although this time Raven was more protected and agreed to his departure, he still didn't like leaving her. As ashamed as he was to admit it, he had also had been unable to completely quell his worries. In his mind at night Kíli and the other members of the Company had stolen his cousin away. It was a ridiculous fear, and he hated that he had it, but it didn't make it go away. Fíli wondered if Thorin feared the same. It was likely, he thought, but neither of them spoke of that.

Since their departure, Thorin had been incredibly driven. Fíli had learned a lot about politics, and Thorin's approach. Of course, not all his recent lessons were about what  _to_  do. Negotiating with hobbits was as foreign to Thorin as it had been, and in many ways still was, to Fíli. They had been welcomed with many pleasantries. Then, once more they were plied with more food than they could possibly eat. After that, they'd become trapped in hours of pleasantries that they had no use for. It had frustrated Fíli, but at times he had become genuinely worried for the lives of the hobbits. Thorin did his best not to glower, or at least Fíli knew that his uncle was not glowering. To the hobbits, however, Thorin had no doubt come off as unfriendly at best and abrasive at worst. At times, Fíli had worried that Thorin might have taken things too far. He had restrained himself, however, and was ultimately glad he never actually interfered. He knew after all that Thorin had put everything on the line to make his plan work.

Luckily, it seemed that favor was on their side. Of course things could have gone better, Bilba's shunning could have been revoked. Fíli, however, should have known better than to hope for such luck. As it was, the Thain had agreed that his decision had been hasty. Though, it was only after Thorin had knelt before Bilba's fat kinsman. His uncle had claimed Bilba as his Queen and Raven as their legitimate daughter. He had demanded that she not be considered shunned any longer. Furthermore, he had requested that Bag End and all of Bilba's property be returned. Seeming to enjoy watching Thorin bowing before him, the Thain had hummed and hawed. He had explained that it was not actually his decision, but that of the people. They had decided to shun Bilba, he had been unable to fight them. Moreover, Bag End was no longer empty, and he had no power to demand its current occupants to vacate. The funds, well, Bilba's Baggins inheritance had already been seen to. The money had been redistributed and the property sold off. It was no simple thing to reinstate her. Thorin had glared, but said nothing, knowing that he could not. Finally, however, the Thain had been forced to agree. Apparently, Bilba's mother had been his favorite daughter. So, he claimed, he loved her daughter daughter as well.

A hearing, the Thain had decided. He would have a hearing with Bilba. If she agreed that what Thorin had said was true he would see about undoing her shunning. He had not said anything about her property until Thorin had pressed the point. Then, he'd agreed to see what could be done about her inheritance. Bag End, would be returned to her. That much Thorin had demanded. After all, he had riches a plenty to see that Bilba was well looked after for the rest of her life and Raven's life. Still, after all of his negotiations, offering trade and a guard for the Shire he had not been happy. They left immediately after. Thorin had managed none-too-gently to threaten the Shire with war if things didn't go well. Fíli privately didn't think it was the best move, but it wasn't his decision to make either.

Riding back, Thorin had been in a foul mood. The Thain had told them that Bilba's prized possessions, had been auctioned off. Fíli could still remember Bilba talking about them. Her arm chair, her books, her Ma's glory box; they were all part of her home.  _Could Bag End be home for her without them?_  Fíli wondered, though he didn't dare voice his fear. The thought of Bilba returning from their Quest, from all of the pain to an auction? It made Fíli's blood boil in anger. He supposed though that he had to be thankful for what Thorin had accomplished. His uncle had given Bilba a chance to reclaim her station and home.

"I'll need to speak with Kíli as soon as we're back. Then, I'll need to talk to Bilba." Thorin said as they rounded the corner.  _Kíli,_  Fíli wondered how his brother would take this new development. After all, it was not a full pardon, Bilba would still have to face her grand father. Before Fíli could reply to Thorin, a blur of dark hair appeared, charging towards them. Fíli found himself smiling as he looked down at Raven, who was hurtling in their direction.

"Well?" she demanded, bouncing to a stop at the head of Thorin's mount, hey eyes wide and bright. Fíli reigned his own pony to a stop, glad that they were riding battle-trained ponies who wouldn't spook and hurt her.

"We've had some success." Thorin admitted and Raven beamed.

"Really! He'll revoke it?" Raven exclaimed as Thorin dismounted.

"He will so long as your Ma goes and talks with him." Thorin replied and Fíli winced internally. Of course the Thain still had his reservations. Still, Thorin seemed determined not to mention any of that to Raven. Of course though it wasn't as if Thorin was about to acknowledge any possibility of failure. No, his uncle would rather destroy the Shire than to see it continue to shun Bilba.

"Good, then you have to go and talk to her. She's been asking after the both of you with receding patience and none of us know what to say." Raven said matter of factly.

"You can speak to Bilba, but not before I speak with the two of you. Raven, why don't you go and tell your  _Amad_  that Thorin and Fíli are back. She'll want to know for the dinner count. I need to speak with them in private." Fíli froze at the tone of his  _Amad'_ s voice. Raven looked nervously from Dís to Thorin and Fíli but nodded and darted away. It didn't take long knowing Dís to recognize when it was best to escape where possible.

"Dís, is now really the time? Our ponies need to be seen to and I would like-" Thorin began.

"Seeing to the ponies will give at least a few of these dwarrow something to do. I want you in our hut now." Dís's demand left no room for argument. Resigned to his fate, Fíli silently handed the reigns of his pony over to one of the waiting guards. Clearly, Dís had wanted no chance for them to escape. Catching Thorin's eye he could see that his uncle was just as wary.

" _Amad,_ " Fíli warned as he entered the hut and immediately took in his brother's figure. Of course he and Dís had both tried before to heal the rift in their family. Neither of them liked the fact that Thorin and Kíli were rarely seen in each other's presence, much less speaking. Still, it had not been successful before and Fíli feared that it would continued to be of no avail.

"No. We're doing this here and now because I've had  _enough_." Dís glared at the three of them. Fíli glanced over at Kíli who was glaring at Thorin. He followed his younger brother's gaze to where his uncle stared resolutely at the ground.

"Kíli," Fíli began, drawing his younger brother's gaze. "I'd do anything to turn back time and make it so that none of this happened. They're our family and I'd give my life for either of them. I want nothing more than to see them safe, happy, and provided for. I can't turn back time though, I can't erase what happened. None of us can do that. She forgives us now though, she's letting us be a part of Raven's life too. So, if she's willing to let it go then you're going to need to do the same. We can't be stuck in the past forever."

"I'm not mad at you, Fí, I've never been mad at you, not for that." Kíli finally said, glancing more than once in Dís's direction. As though she'd let them go now, though, since she finally had them all trapped together. "Well, I mean, I was upset with you because you didn't seem to remember her." Kíli's voice broke. "She was so defenseless at first. When we tricked her into that stunt with the trolls, remember? We promised her after that to always protect her. By the time that we were at that gate she wasn't just Bilba anymore either. She was our aunt and our Queen. But we still abandoned her. I should have died up on Raven Hill, we both  _should have died_  but she stopped us. We  _heard her_ , Fíli, warning us about the orcs, and we got out!" Fíli winced. Thorin and Dís were both watching them intently. Neither he nor Kíli had ever spoken to anyone else about hearing Bilba in the Tower. Ever. "She didn't abandon us, Fí, not once! When we were strangers, when we disparaged her, when we betrayed her! She  _stayed_  but not one of us fought for her! What I couldn't ignore was that you were moving on! That you forgave Thorin, that you were able to look up to him like we used to! How can we trust him when he led us so far astray? How can you respect him knowing that?"

"You're wrong. I never moved on, Kí." Fíli whispered when silence had filled the hut for long enough that he was sure his brother was done speaking. "I still dream about that moment on the hill. I think I reach out and grab her or that I speak up on the battlements. I dream that I protected her instead of sending her over the side, and then I wake up and I didn't do it. I failed her and I failed myself. I never forgot, Kí, I never stopped visiting her tomb. I certainly never forgave myself for that either, but I know that Thorin felt just as bad. All of our Company wronged her, but she was  _gone_  Kí, and nothing that I did could ever bring her back. I could have lost myself in my mourning, but what good could that ever have done? I couldn't just ignore the fact that Bilba didn't just sacrifice for us, she did it for our people. Our home, our legacy, and what would she have thought if I threw it all away? As far as I knew then she had given her life for the sake of reclaiming Erebor. The best I could do to respect her memory and her sacrifice was to look after Erebor. I wanted to ensure that we did succeed in rebuilding our community, for Bilba." Fíli stood and moved across the hut to his brother. "Things, they haven't been right, between the two of us. Not since Raven Hill. Obviously, a lot has changed. We're not the same dwarrow who left Ered Luin. You have Tauriel now, your One and I am so grateful that you have found her. She supports you and loves you, just the way I always hoped you'd have in your life. In spite of that though, I want things to be better between us in the future. I want my little brother back." Fíli met Kíli's wide gaze, reaching out and taking his brother's hand. "So, Kí, what do you think? Since we got our Bilba back and we have Raven now as well, do you think we could work on that?" Fíli asked. Kíli looked up at him, and Fíli's heart melted at the expression in his brother's gaze as he rose and then embraced him.

"Of course, Fí. I've missed you too." Kíli murmured and Fíli smiled, holding his little brother.

They hadn't hugged since, well, Fíli couldn't remember when. Of course there had been a time when they were inseparable. For years, they slept in a tangle of limbs. The other night, with Raven, had been the first time that Kíli had shared the cot with him since right after the Battle. Fíli hadn't dared to hope though that it was a promise for a better future. After all, Kíli wanted to be close to Raven as much as he did. It was true that he and Kíli had gotten along better than Thorin and Kíli. Still, things hadn't been right, not since the Battle of Five Armies. They had only been going through the motions. Fíli leaned forward, knocking his head against his brother's, and then he moved away, looking back to Thorin.

Their uncle hadn't moved. He was still staring down at the ground, his arms crossed, and in that moment Fíli didn't see the revered king of Erebor. Instead, Thorin looked old and worn. The silver shone in his hair and beard, his shoulders slumped, and the regal air that he usually exuded was gone.

"Do you not think I also wish that I could turn back the hands of time?" Thorin said softly as Kíli turned to him. "Of course I do. But, I can't. I am a King, not a God. What is in my power is the ability to do what I think is the right thing by both Bilba and Raven. Fíli and I sought an audience with the Thain, and he has agreed to see Bilba. He will speak to her. He wants to know if she agrees to that it was all a  _misunderstanding_ ," Thorin spat the word. "If so, he will take back her shunning and reinstate her as the Mistress of Bag End. We hope that such a return will be with her full Baggins inheritance." Thorin explained. "I don't think any of this was a misunderstanding. It was all intentional. However, Bilba wishes us to follow her cultural expectations, and I will do that. I can think of no other way to apologize that she will accept than to make it right with her at her home. If she agrees to accept my apology, but wishes nothing else to do with me I will also understand. Whatever she chooses, I will respect and act accordingly. At least, with her. Raven, however, is my daughter. I will not abandon her. Not while I still have breadth in my body and power over my mind. You see, you're right, Kíli, we wronged Bilba before. She needed us and we all turned our backs to her. Yes, I made you choose between me and her, and I cannot, I  _will not_  apologize for feeling humbled by your loyalty. However, I will not repeat my past mistakes either. Raven wants me here, and so long as she wants me to be a part of her life I will be." Thorin rose to his feet, and listening to him, Fíli felt reminded of the invincible uncle from his childhood.

Thorin had always been proud. It made him seem all the more regal, and Fíli had wanted to exude that confidence. The true quality though, that inspired loyalty was his uncle's sincerity. Thorin was unflinchingly harsh at times, but when he loved you? You knew then that nothing would stop him from protecting and providing for you.

"What about apologizing to me!" Kíli burst out, and Fíli startled back to the presence. Although Thorin's speech had moved him, Kíli appeared as upset as when the meeting had started. Looking back at his brother, he saw tears in the dwarf's wide gaze. "You apologized to Bilba. You say you love us, that you would take it all back? I don't want to hear that because I  _know_  you can't take it back! I don't want a God! I want my uncle, my kin! All this time? What I've  _wanted_ is to know why can't you just apologize for what you've put us through? We are all guilty of hurting Bilba, but you hurt us too! You made us choose between her and you and we chose you! Do you ever regret the fact that we had to make that decision? Have you ever acknowledged to our faces what it means that we chose you?" Kíli's voice rose, and though Fíli winced at the shrill note, he also knew exactly where he brother was coming from. Thorin was their idol. Bilba their savior. A top that gate they had been forced to make the impossible hard decision. Of course, they had chosen Thorin. How could they not? He was not only their king, he was their uncle. They were the sons of Víli, but it had been Thorin who had raised and provided for them their entire lives. Thorin who held them when they cried, who told them stories, and trained them. Always, Thorin had been there fore them.

Thinking back on the years since The Battle of Five Armies, however, Fíli realized that Kíli was, of course, right. Thorin had never apologized for putting them in that situation, and with a sigh Fíli turned back to his uncle. He knew that Thorin had hurt just as much. Still, he couldn't deny the fact that Kíli was also right: Thorin owed them all an apology. The whole Company. He owed it to them for making them choose between him and Bilba.

Thorin sighed, and Fíli observed silently. He knew that his uncle had no doubt come to the same conclusion. Thorin moved into the center of the hut and then in one fluid motion he knelt. Unflinchingly, he withdrew the dagger from his belt, holding it out, hilt-first to Kíli.

"I kneel before you, Kíli son of Víli to ask your forgiveness. I have wronged you by placing you in a situation where you felt obligated to choose me, your King and your kin. Your heart led you elsewhere, however, you chose your loyalty to me. I cannot hope to repay such a debt. I can, however, recognize your past pain. In recompense for our broken relationship I, therefore, offer you this blade so that you might take my hair as promise of my sincerity." Fíli froze and for an instant he saw his shock mirrored on Dís and Kíli's faces.

Thorin was their King and their kin, it was true. According to the traditions, however, he didn't needed to offer Kíli his hair. He could prove his sincerity without such a sacrifice and it would bring no dishonor to either dwarf. Fíli knew that Thorin could have offered Kíli the dagger as an apology. It was of impressive craft, after all. If that had not been enough, Thorin could have given Kíli something else. Tradition did not stipulate that the gift had to be made by Thorin's hand. Furthermore, so long as it was of an acceptable quality it would suffice. Thorin as King had no shortage of suitable artifacts.  _Perhaps_ , however,  _that is why uncle has bypassed the gift? It would be too casual considering our wealth?_ Even an apology by combat might have been suitable, but this?  _It is too much,_ Fíli thought. Thorin was their king. To give up his beard now would not just be an apology; it would open him to the criticism. Worse, it could undermine his rule. Across the hut, Fíli met Dís's gaze, remembering the unrest in the Blue Mountains. They hadn't had a chance to warn Thorin of the extent of the threat, but neither could they interrupt now. This matter was now solely between Kíli and Thorin.  _Has it made things better?_  Fíli wondered,  _do you feel satisfaction for this?_

Fíli watched in tense silence as Kíli took a step forward, accepting the knife. If he had refused or returned it then it would mean he did not forgive Thorin. Now, since he had accepted it, he could only go forward. He had to take Thorin's hair. Fíli's gut squirmed with discomfort. He understood his brother's pain, but this did not feel right either.  _Perhaps_ , he thought morosely,  _I'm becoming too hobbitish. I don't have the stomach for our age-old traditions._ Thorin held his younger nephew's gaze as Kíli reached down and fingered one of the braided ends of Thorin's beard. The soft sound of the blade cutting through hair rang out in the silent hut. Fíli flinched at the sound, though Thorin neither said nor did anything.

"This bead? You'll give it back to Bilba if she agrees to have you in her life. You'll braid it into her hair and promise her that you'll never abandon her again. Then, every time you see it? You'll remember the sacrifices that we made for you and the pain you've caused all of us." Kíli placed the bead with its small remnant of severed hair into Thorin's hand.

"I swear it, Kíli my sister-son. I will do as you decree, and I offer you my apology once more for the pain I've unjustly caused you these past sixteen years." Thorin said. Only once Kíli nodded did Thorin slowly rise to his feet.

"We are sons of Durin, and Durin's folk may not flee from a fight, but neither are we meant to be at war with each other." Kíli took a step forward, and then gently pressed his forehead to his uncle's. Fíli felt a chill race the length of his spine as he recognized Thorin's words from right before their fated charge. Kíli had echoed those same words that promised the Company that their true King was back. Those words that had led them all to rush suicidally into war. It felt fitting, Fíli supposed, that Kíli should have remembered and repeated them now. Fíli could only hope that his brother had spoken true. Still, he could hardly believe that the battle that had raged between his family was finally over.

"Well, I can't say I'm not pleased that you two will finally look at each other again. However, I also need to tell you something Thorin before you go and do something equally stupid again." Dís announced. Looking to her, Fíli thought that his  _Amad's_  eyes were a little over-bright, but her voice was firm with resolve.

"What is it?" Thorin asked, sounding downright weary.

"As you know, it was dwarrow who kidnapped Bilba. They intended to use her against you. I believe, after Fíli's and my visit to the Blue Mountains, that they might have been behind the order. The dwarrow left behind there are dangerously close to revolt, Thorin. It's mostly the nobles there now. The ones who you wouldn't give enough wealth to. They're upset, they believe it is their right. Perhaps, it was. You know that I support you, that I support the regime we've created. We're doing the right thing for all dwarrow. However, we cannot afford to keep ignoring them. Their dissidence may spread to Ered Luin, they may join forces. We're all here now for the winter, with Bilba and Raven. Hopefully, Erebor will not weaken. As for the Iron Hills, I can only hope that they will remain out of the conflict at worst and side with you at best." Dís announced bluntly.

"I see." Thorin responded, while Kíli paled, glancing at where Thorin was missing his bead. Of course, to every dwarf, it was clear that it was gone. Until it was placed in Bilba's hair, it would serve as a symbol of Thorin's shame. In a tumultuous time like this it would spell nothing short of danger.

"Uncle," Kíli began, and Fíli found himself smiling along with Thorin at the use of the sobriquet. "I want to help. Whatever you need. I haven't been a good Prince for Erebor, but I will change that. We are Durins, after all, and if it is to be another fight, I'll be at your side."

"You have never let me down, Kíli." Thorin turned and Fíli nodded his own agreement. "You've never let Erebor down either. After all, you have done that which is hardest, have you not?" Kíli frowned and Thorin smiled. "Securing an alliance with Mirkwood?" Thorin teased, letting out a wry smile which Kíli returned. There was a moment of silence and then Fíli wasn't sure who started laughing, but the sound filled the hut. He didn't remember the last time that the four of them had laughed together. As he looked around at his family, in spite of the possible Civil War, Fíli finally felt content. Truly content. Bilba was alive, they were all blessed with Raven, the future of their family, and they were together. The very hope that their family might actually be whole again, that they could right the wrongs? It was good enough for him.


	19. eighteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli is protective of Bilba. Thorin and Bilba try talking again.

**AN:** Thanks to everyone for reading and especially for commenting! I love hearing from you guys :) Thanks too to everyone who left Kudos! Excited to hear what you think and what you're looking forward to/hoping for! :) Happy reading!

* * *

 

_eighteen_

Bilba

* * *

 

**Buckland, by the Old Forest**

**5 November 2958**

When Bilba first discovered Thorin's departure, she was both angry and disappointed. It hadn't taken long for her to learn that Fíli had also gone with him. Apparently, they were still discussing the future of the hobbit prisoners. Bilba was suspicious and weary of the topic. She hated what they'd done to Raven, but she wished nevertheless that the matter could simply be over with. After hearing about their departures, however, she'd been more focused on Raven's reaction.

After her disastrous encounter with Thorin, drove Raven off she'd been undeniably worried. Raven, however, had returned swathed in his coat, a smile on her face. Bilba had then feared that her daughter would take Thorin and Fíli's combined disappearance hard. To her surprise, Raven had simply shrugged.

"I know they're gone, I saw them off this morning, Ma." Raven had responded. She proceeded to spend her time playing with Bombur's sons or listening to the Company's stories. It was good to see her playing with other children. She really hadn't had the opportunity before. Still, her behaviour made Bilba at least a little suspicious. Then, her excitement when they'd spotted the two riding back had been another dead giveaway. Raven had rushed off, and Bilba had steeled herself to try to approach Thorin again. Before she gathered her courage, Dís had hauled him and Fíli off. Bilba couldn't begrudge the dwarrowdam, the Durins clearly needed to speak.

As it was, Bilba watched from inside the smial; waiting for any of the Durins to reappear. She was alone as she paced. Raven was outside with Dwalin, hovering closer to the hut. Primula on the other hand was over at the main camp fire. She had some knitting with her and was no doubt explaining more of hobbit culture to a rather full audience.

Since arriving, the Company had been particularly interested in learning hobbit culture. They had never talked much about it while on the Quest. Bilba had been busy training, learning about her companions and dwarrow culture. She found, however, that it was a difficult discussion to have now. After all, she had completely disregarded essentially every hobbit tradition on their journey.

As she waited for the Durins, she remembered one such conversation. The Company had all been surprised at the amount of food that Bilba and Primula presented. Supplies weren't short any more, so Bilba was determined to feed everyone properly. Or, as properly befit guests of hobbits.

* * *

"You can't eat like this every day!" Bofur had laughed, patting his belly one day after tea. Primula and Bilba had begun discussions of dinner, and everyone was still full.

"We're only having five meals a day!" Primula had laughed without thinking. It was true, they only put out breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, tea, and dinner. For the sake of time, since there were so many dwarrow, they had skipped second breakfast and supper. Primula and Bilba were used to doing without, and even Raven was still adjusting to eating so much.

"How many do you usually have?" Ori had asked curiously, his journal and quill always ready.

"Well, hobbits typically like seven." Bilba had admitted, feeling a blush rise as the Company had all stared at her.

"But you didn't eat that much on the quest." Dori had pointed out.

"Well, we were rationing and traveling." Bilba tried to shrug it off.

"But if you usually ate seven meals, weren't you hungry, Lass?" Balin frowned.

"We all tightened our belts." Bilba tried again to dismiss the subject. She remembered though the first few weeks of near-constant hunger.

"So we starved you." Dwalin grumbled in conclusion.

"Hardly!" Bilba protested, "we were all eating the same rations!" she pointed out.

"But you eat more than us." Dori pointed out.

"Well, I mean, perhaps not in one sitting." they had all scowled at her. It was neither the first time nor the last time either. The worst by far, however, had been her hair.

"Why would you ever cut it?" they had wailed in horror. Though, of course, they'd already been upset with her about that one on the quest.

* * *

Since then, there had been countless other discoveries. The importance of family. The value of tradition. The necessity of chaperones for an unmarried hobbit lass with unfamiliar men. The list of broken rules went on and on. The Company's apologies hadn't stopped either. They felt bad enough about what had happened in Erebor without these grievances to add. Bilba in turn was growing increasingly relieved that they weren't in Hobbiton. At least at the smial no one was there to emphasize just how many rules Bilba had broken to help her dwarrow.

Outside, the hut door opened and Fíli emerged. Raven jumped up and went over to him. He grinned at her, accepting her embrace while Kíli and Thorin emerged. Taking a deep breath, Bilba exited the smial. Multiple heads turned as she approached the camp, and then Kíli strode forward to meet her.

"I know, you want to talk to Uncle, but can I speak to you first?" he asked solemnly, and Bilba nodded with only a little apprehension. Over the past few days, wherever she went Kíli had followed her; a self-appointed guardian. The only time that she had shed her new guard were when Tauriel or Raven managed to distract him. Bilba was glad that things had worked out with the Captain of the Mirkwood guard. She had liked the red-haired elf, and the love that the couple shared made her feel proud. She supposed it was mostly because of how she mothered Kíli on the quest.  _Now I ought to find someone for Fíli,_  Bilba mused, before she could stop herself.

"Of course." Bilba steered herself back to the present, focusing on Kíli. "Is everything alright?" she asked, forcing herself not to glance behind him to where she could feel Thorin watching.

"We spoke." Kíli nodded, and Bilba searched his gaze, seeing a little smile on his visage before he fought to quell it.

"No matter what's happening with Thorin and I, he's your uncle, Kíli. He cares for you more than anything. I saw the fear on his face when he thought he'd sent you and Fíli into a trap," Bilba stepped forward. "What happened before? I don't blame you, and I don't want you to give up on your relationship with him for my sake." she caught his gaze, making the dwarf nod. Kíli might have grown, but he still looked so young to her and the mother instinct rose. She stepped forward, rising up on her toes. He bowed his head a little, a habit from the quest, and she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Now that that matter's cleared up, what did you want to talk to me about?" Bilba asked.

"Well, it's about Thorin," Kíli began weaving his fingers together, and Bilba smiled. He had always done that when he was nervous. Gently, she reached out and took his hands in hers, stilling the motion. He glanced up, meeting her gaze and she smiled at him, encouraging his words. "Well, in dwarrow culture we have family to mediate a courtship. Any offers and then the courting process itself. I don't mean that you have to court Thorin again, or anyone for that matter, but well, he wants to make things right with you by both dwarrow and hobbit standards. I can't do anything about hobbit traditions, but I told him that I would be acting on your behalf as a dwarrow, as your family so his offers have to go through me. Any apology and potentially any courtship offer that he or anyone gives you would then to through me so I could advise you. And, if you two were to decide to resume your relationship then you'd have to court again, properly this time lest it be a dishonor to you. As your kin I could also speak to him on your behalf according to what your decisions are, but it's only if you're agreeable. I mean, I don't have to, but I just-" Kíli rambled, and Bilba did her best to follow his nervous chatter. As she caught the gist of what he was saying, however, Bilba beamed at him.

"Stop, Kíli," she insisted quietly, and he trailed off, his face falling. "I'd be honored to have you act as my kin and to have you advise me." she hurried, unable to bear the look of disappointment on his features. Immediately he brightened, a grin stretching across his face. "I'm very thankful that you wanted to, but you must promise me one thing. No matter what happens, between Thorin and I, don't forget that he's also your kin." Bilba warned and Kíli nodded, though she suspected it was only to please her.

"I promise, I won't let you down. Everything that Thorin does now I'll make sure is right. After all, he's king and you're the hero of Erebor, so you must have the proper respect that you're owed." Bilba nodded, though she didn't quite follow along. "You see, you both have station and means, you're essentially equals in the eyes of dwarrow. So, gifts that you accept and give each other must speak to that mutual respect. All gifts must reflect the purity of one's intentions and respect. Anything coming from him, however, should also reflect his power and wealth as king. The same goes for what you offer him. I suppose though you will have to decide how to intermingle dwarrow and hobbit customs. You know, if you court both ways separately or intermingle them in the gifts." Kíli explained, and Bilba hid her smile as he straightened his shoulders and puffed out his chest.  _Sometimes,_  she thought,  _it is so easy to forget that he's grown at all_.

"Good, then, I trust you, Kíli, and I'm afraid I'm not very aware of dwarrow traditions. For all of our conversations, I fear we focused more on history and stories than traditions." Bilba admitted, and Kíli grinned.

"Well, as a Prince of Erebor, even if I was in exile,  _Amad_  made me learn  _all_  the traditions." Kíli assured her, emphasizing the fact with some exasperation.

"And you also courted a One who is not a dwarrow." Bilba pointed out.

"True, I suppose then you and Thorin could follow a similar process. That is, if you choose to court. Though, it would have to be entirely your own decision." Kíli nodded.

"Well, why don't we start with you explaining what I should and should not do in these future interactions." Bilba offered, pulling Kíli over to the crude garden bench that Raven had made her years ago. The sun was luckily still high in the sky and the spot was bathed in warm autumn sun.

* * *

Kíli took his job very seriously. The sun was sinking and Primula had already begun on dinner preparations by the time that Kíli finished. Or rather, thought Bilba understood well enough to go on. He had focused at the end especially on what Thorin should offer her as an apology. He had explained that he could not offer her only a verbal promise and Bilba felt more than a little guilty. Kíli reminded her that amongst dwarrow actions were far more important than words. To honorably apologize, Thorin had to offer Bilba proof of his recompense.

Finally, with all of the apology business taken care of Kíli stood. Bilba was allowed to seek Thorin for conversation. Kíli gave her strict instructions, however, that she was not to give Thorin any formal answers. At least, not without consulting Kíli first. Thinking about gift orders and acceptability, Bilba's head spun. There were fewer restrictions on private conversations and respectful distances in dwarrow culture. Still, the means of judging gift values was another matter entirely. Bilba did not dare think about the whole hair bead thing either.

No sooner had Kíli gone before Thorin made his approach. He and Kíli crossed paths, both nodding to each other.  _A promising sign_ , Bilba thought as she stood and brushed out her skirts nervously.

* * *

"Bilba," Thorin came to a stop a respectable distance from her.

"You're back." Bilba heard herself say, wincing at the sharpness in her voice. After all, she suspected that his disappearance now had something to do with his apology for her. Still, it was too late to take it back now.

"I am." Thorin nodded, bowing his head, and refusing to meet her gaze.  _Like an older version of Kíli_ , Bilba thought for a fleeting moment.

"Was your trip productive?" Bilba asked, trying to sound gentler.

"I hope so." Thorin looked up, meeting her gaze. "Perhaps, we could walk, and I will tell you of it?" he offered, and she couldn't help but smile. Many a time during the quest he had offered to take a walk with her. It had become their way of escaping the Company's prying and over-protective gazes.

"I would like that." she nodded, and noticed that he returned her small smile too. It was barely noticeable, a softening of his gaze, a little twitch of his beard. That was when she noticed it. One of his symmetrical beads was missing. She froze, staring at the spot, and he ducked his head again. She stepped forward, ignoring the rules of propriety, forcing him to look at her.

"Your missing a braid." she stated, though she was careful to keep herself from reaching out. Touching another's hair was a special thing for dwarrow. Bilba didn't dare cross that boundary, not now with Thorin. He winced almost imperceptibly at her words and she felt a twinge of guilt for bringing it up.

"I owed Kíli an apology." Thorin explained.

"I see." Bilba forced herself to say, ignoring the hundred other replies that leapt to mind. She loved Kíli but,  _why did Thorin offer his hair?_ She knew enough to realize it was a sign of public shame, and that it was the ultimate of apologies. She didn't want Thorin shamed no matter the reason.

"He is my nephew, Bilba, he deserved to know how much I value his opinion. This was a true apology made to a Prince of Erebor. Kíli's always been the young one, the wild one, Fíli has been my heir, never Kíli, and he gets away with being of less importance. Offering him such an apology made him acknowledge his own station." Thorin defended his actions, and she sighed. She knew what Thorin was talking about; Kíli was often overlooked while responsibility fell to Fíli. Reminding the younger Durin of his solid place in his family was honorable.

"You two are talking again though? On better terms?" she demanded.

"Aye." Thorin nodded.

"Good. Else wise I'd have locked you in the smial together. That or gotten someone else to bang your skulls together until you reconciled." she blurted with a smile before hesitating.  _Are we on such familiar terms again?_  she wondered, but when Thorin smiled at her she figured that she hadn't overstepped her bounds too badly.

"Shall we walk?" Thorin offered and Bilba nodded. Side by side they headed down into the yard, and though part of her longed to reach for his hand, she didn't.

They wandered down past the empty gardens, Bilba half-heartedly thinking about planting bulbs. The season had been mild thus far but the earth would freeze soon. If they were to have a harvest next year then they needed to plant now. She wondered at her own hesitation. They needed food here, there was no flexibility about that. No, she suspected that some part of her still hoped not to be at the smial come the spring. Still, it was becoming unavoidable.  _Tomorrow,_  she decided,  _tomorrow I'll start planting._

* * *

 

Passing the barren earth, Bilba led the way towards the newly constructed paddocks. The ponies from both groups of dwarrow were kept there along with Tauriel's horse. Seeing the taller equine, Bilba was reminded that the elves and Estel had been scarce. She felt bad, and suspected that they'd leave soon and all the while she'd been a horrible host. Still, she had been far too distracted. Leaning on the paddock fence several of the ponies wandered over, no doubt looking for treats. Bilba reached out, absent mindedly patting a pretty grey gelding.

"I thought you were allergic to horses." Thorin murmured as Bilba soon found herself surrounded by equines.

"No." Bilba replied without thinking, glancing over at where he was stroking his own black pony.

"Then why need to go back for your pocket handkerchief?" Thorin asked, and Bilba froze in embarrassed shock.

"You remember that?" she asked, feeling her cheeks flame as he chuckled. "Foolish question, of course you do." she groaned.

"What did you want to go back for then?" Thorin asked gently, a curious smile on his face.

"Nothing." Bilba shrugged, even the tips of her ears warming under his friendly scrutiny.

"I don't believe that."

"Fine. I forgot to bind my chest, if you must know. Riding on that pony though made me realize that I hadn't done it. I was both uncomfortable and worried that I was going to be discovered and sent home. I was so flustered though, I couldn't come up with a good reason to turn back." Bilba finally admitted, as Thorin raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Allergies sounded a lot more reasonable in my head when I came up with the idea." she defended, pretending not to notice as Thorin's gaze dipped down to her ample chest. "Honestly, it was a miracle none of you noticed me in those first few days. I was so nervous and discombobulated. I suppose though that you were all equally annoyed with me and we happily left each other alone." she shrugged.

"We were foolish." Thorin acknowledged.

"For not noticing or in general?" Bilba teased without thinking.

"Both." he replied with sincerity.

"Under all your bad manners, and gruff talk, though, your hearts were in the right place." Bilba smiled, and he chuckled.

"What did we ever do to deserve your loyalty?" Thorin asked softly, and for a moment Bilba thought he was going to reach out to her, but he did not.

"I was quite ready for another adventure. I always dreamed about going off and being in one of my own Ma's tales." Bilba shrugged. "I gave those dreams up after my parents died. I was going to be the Baggins of Bag End. I was supposed to be a great many things and I tried to be a respectable hobbit lass. I really did try. But then Gandalf came, and the next thing I knew I had thirteen dwarrow in my home. You laid a contract out right there in front of me and it was all too tempting, I suppose. A chance to escape what was expected of me, an excuse. Ironic I suppose, since you were trying to fulfill your obligations to your people and I was escaping my own."

"But you came to have an adventure?" Thorin asked, raising an eyebrow in what Bilba thought might be surprise. She flushed again.

"Well, you're right, it was more than that," she admitted. "I saw the Company interact with each other. The love and the loyalty that they had for their kin? The way that you rallied them even after the disappointment of Ered Luin and the Iron Hills? They wouldn't have risked their loved ones without cause." Bilba looked away from the ponies, meeting his sapphire gaze. "You were that cause, Thorin. When you promised that you'd take each and every one of them over any other dwarrow? Over even an army? I understood why they put everything on the line for you.  _I_  wanted to jump up and promise you my life, and I'd barely met you! I had no real skills, knowledge, or experience to contribute. Even compared to the untrained members of the company I was woefully inadequate. I knew that when I signed that damned contract, and I didn't care. You stirred something in me, Thorin. You made me want to do something, to be part of it all, a contribution of sorts. Your company needed a burglar, so be it. I'd never stolen a thing in my life before, but I would: for you." Bilba felt her face flushing to the tips of her ears under his scrutiny. "You want to know why I gave it all up? Why I put my trust in you? Your Company knew the horrors of Erebor. They understood the likelihood of failure but they were loyal to you. Against all odds, they would risk everything because you asked it. If they would do that? Well, it was voucher enough for me." Bilba looked away, remembering the wash of emotions from that night.

When Dwalin had first appeared and dismissed her as female she'd made her first decision. She'd hidden her gender, if rather sloppily, and argued with him to let her come. She might have lied about her skills, but he must have seen something in her because he hadn't revealed her. Instead, he'd let her don her dead brother's clothes and introduce herself as 'Bilbo'. Of course at first that night she'd been unsure. After Thorin had arrived, after he had spoken to his Company, after she'd heard them sing? It had given her the courage to cut her hair, to pack Bilbo's belongings, and to sign the contract.

"Thank you." he finally said, and she risked a glance back up at him with a tentative smile. His voice had been thick with emotion, and she saw the shimmer of raw gratitude in his gaze.

"So, are you going to finally tell me what you've coerced our daughter into scheming with you? Or why you were gone for nearly a week after you'd only just arrived?" Bilba asked boldly, needing to change the subject.

"You asked for my apology before," Thorin began, and Bilba tensed. She did not want to ruin what was a good conversation with memories of the disaster. At the same time, however, she knew what was coming. Kíli wouldn't have talked to her so much about apologies if Thorin wasn't planing something. "I didn't give it you, but it was not because I cannot give it to you. I long ago acknowledged that what I'd done to you was incomprehensible. I promised you love and protection, and then I nearly killed not only you but, also our child."

Bilba swallowed hard and took a long steadying breath. She knit her hands into the pony's mane in some vain attempt to steady herself. In her mind's eye she couldn't help but remember the feel of his hands wrapping around her throat. She felt for an instant the panic that had flooded through her when she'd been unable to breath. Her toes dug into the soft earth, reassuring herself that she was not dangling over the ramparts. She'd born the bruises and the sore throat for over a week and the memories? Well, she doubted they'd ever go away.

"You didn't know I was pregnant." she whispered, forcing herself back to the present. Thorin wasn't looking at her, but staring down at his hands in obvious memory and remorse. She didn't fully forgive him. She didn't fully trust him either. If things were ever going to change, however, and she hoped that they would, then they had to start somewhere.

"That's no excuse." he replied, finally looking up to meet her gaze, and she remained silent. He was right. It was no excuse. "Bilba, you must understand, in dwarrow culture you never simply use your words. We are a people of action, not words. I understand, for hobbits, it is different. I have, however, already wronged you by ignoring your culture. I could not disrespect you again so badly by forgoing my own traditions." Thorin gently reached out, covering Bilba's hand with his own. She had turned back to the pony, unable to hold his gaze. As he gently detangled her from the animal's mane, she forced herself to face him, to meet his gaze. "So, Bilba Belladonna Baggins," he clutched her hands gently in his. "I hereby humbly apologize for the many wrongdoings that I've enacted against you. As promise of my sincerity and my resolve to earn your forgiveness, I have gone to your Thain. I begged him both to reconsider your shunning and to return your property. I explained to him that we were married according to my traditions. I told him, Bilba, that Raven is our legitimate daughter, and that you are my chosen Queen. He has agreed to an audience with you to verify the truth of my words. He is prepared to revoke your shunning and return Bag End and your rightful inheritance to you." Bilba's breath caught in her throat.

"I thought you went about the hobbits. That's what Raven and Kíli both told me." she blurted and Thorin sighed.

"I asked them to lie if you asked because I was not sure of my success." Thorin admitted.

"I see." Bilba nodded faintly, her head spinning.

He had gone and begged her grandfather to restore her station? She knew hobbits, and she knew that even making the Thain acknowledge her would have been a struggle. Of course she had also suspected after her conversation with Kíli that he'd done something for her. She would never have guessed this. Never would have imagined that he would enable her to plead her case. Never would have hoped that she might be successful.

_Bag End,_  she mused. She had long since given up on returning there. It held so many memories, both good and bad. Being reinstated would also mean that she'd never have to worry about providing for Raven. Sure, they might be gossiped about, but she knew how to manipulate public reputation. As long as they were recognized she would be able to put food on the table and clothing on their backs. That, was all that mattered.  _Though, has he done this so that you don't have to rely on him? Because he doesn't want you in Erebor_? Bilba couldn't help the turn of her thoughts.  _Do you want to go back to Erebor?_  she wondered,  _is that why I am unsure? Is that why I have not begun planting yet?_

"Bilba," Thorin drew her attention. The confidence that his tone had carried when he first told her was gone. Guiltily, she wondered how long she'd been silent for.

"I'm sorry, I just, I never thought I'd get the chance to plead my case. Primula's not close to the Thain, not important enough to convince him. You were back less than twenty-four hours, and we fought but you still went and did this for me." Bilba's voice thickened with emotion. To her own horror, she realized that she was fighting the onslaught of tears.

"I would go to the very gates of Mordor if you asked." Thorin replied solemnly and Bilba gave him a half-hearted smile.

"You silly dwarf, I'd never ask that." she promised with a weak laugh. In the back of her mind, however, she could not help but think of the Ring she'd left in Rivendell.  _Perhaps the day will come when I will make for Mordor,_  she realized with a shiver.

"Perhaps," the way that Thorin's gaze twinkled made Bilba's stomach churn in worry.  _He couldn't possibly know, could he?_  she wondered. "But, will you begin to accept my apology Bilba Baggins? Is my offer demonstration enough to of my remorse?" Thorin steered the conversation back to the topic at hand and Bilba swallowed hard. Kíli had coached her in what was an acceptable gift. Thorin had succeeded with regard to that, but she couldn't ignore the past.

"No one has ever fought as hard for me as you have. Well, the Company perhaps, but still, to go to my Thain and ask what you have? Of course this gesture goes to speak for your intentions. I can't, however, promise you true forgiveness, not yet. That being said, I don't blame you for what happened, you were under the thrall of the gold, I know that, logically. I just," Bilba trailed off.

"You still have nightmares where I'm strangling you to death. You wake up falling because I dropped you off those ramparts. The memories, they'll never fully fade." Thorin finished, and Bilba could only nod.

"I want to forgive you. I want to trust you like I once did. I'm afraid, though, it will take time. I can't know what is going to happen, I can't promise you anything." Bilba whispered, each word stinging as she said it.

"I could ask no more of you than to begin to accept my apology." Thorin said, and she forced herself to keep holding his gaze. "I do not expect you to forgive and forget, to trust me as you once did, however, I would not have us be enemies. Not only because I miss you, but also for the sake of our friends and our family." Bilba nodded.

"I've missed you too." Bilba heard the words slip out before she could quell them. Her eyes locked with Thorin's and she caught the momentary glimmer of what was mutual hope. Then, they both controlled themselves. Bilba knew that no matter how much they both apparently wished it, the past wouldn't just go away. It couldn't. "Raven adores you, you know. She's always dreamed of having a Pa, and a family, friends and acceptance. I never could give them to her. Not until you all came. I've never told her about what drove us apart. She knows that we had a disagreement, I told her I wasn't welcome in Erebor, that's why we never went. I didn't say anything about your exiling me or my betrayal." Bilba forced the words out.

"You were never exiled." Thorin insisted. "I said that, in madness, and everything that I did while under the thrall of the gold has been taken back." Bilba nodded and silence hung between them. It stretched on as Bilba thought about what his words meant.

"What about us?" Bilba asked, not quite daring to look up at him.

"You mean when I braided my bead into your hair?" Thorin asked softly, and then he did take a step closer, and though he did not actually touch her she looked up. He held her gaze as surely as if her chin was caught in his grasp.

"Yes," Bilba whispered, her eyes burning with tears that she refused to shed.

"That was no madness, Bilba. I took you as my wife, and it was the most certain I have ever been." Thorin said, and though she could tell he would go on, she forced herself to stop him.

"Thorin," he froze, "I was also sure in that moment. I think perhaps we still are sure of some connection, but I can't talk about that now. I need us to go slower, to take things one step at a time because we also have to put Raven first. She's my daughter, what we decide affects her family. If we fight it hurts not only her perceptions of us as her idols but also because she is a sensitive child. Moreover, I can't just up and go with you the way I might once have because what happens to me happens to us. Where I go, Raven goes, and I won't uproot her on a whim."

"I understand." Thorin nodded.

"Good." Bilba agreed, her heart thumping so strongly in her breast that she thought he might be able to hear it.  _I just all but gave him permission to court me again,_  she realized,  _and I meant it._  A small smile danced on the corner of her lips. She liked having him back, she liked being with him and part of her longed to reach over and kiss him and embrace him.

"About Raven, and what you want her to know about our past though?" Bilba returned to her previous thought track. "I will leave it up to you, if you tell her or not. I won't judge you either way. She wants you to be a part of her life. No doubt you've already seen how close she is with Fíli and she's accepted Dís as her aunt, Kíli as her cousin and Dwalin as an uncle. She's becoming fast friends with Bombur's boys and she's taken to all of the Company and the guard. She's happy with all of you in her life. But, I don't want to lose my daughter. It's what I fear the most, so perhaps we could work something out to ensure she has a good rest of her childhood? I don't want her future to have to rest on what we decide to do between us." Bilba said and Thorin nodded.

"Of course. I would never dream of taking her from you, Bilba. I know, you've suffered too much already. I believe too that you're afraid that I see you as less capable of raising Raven, even of caring for her. I don't. I can see how happy she is, how much she loves you, and I know that I am to blame for your losing everything. If either of us is the worse parent it is undoubtedly me. That being said, I agree, she fits in well with the dwarrow. I do not want her to have to give up her connections if you were to choose not to accompany us to Erebor. Perhaps while she is still young, if we can come to peace with the colonies in the West, she can visit me there. When she is older, however, I would like her to come to Erebor. Not permanently, but it is also her home and her birthright." Thorin said and though a shot of pain tore through Bilba's breast at the idea of parting from Thorin she nodded.

He had, after all offered a fair solution. Moreover,  _he invited us to Erebor_ , she thought, trying not to smile.  _I want to go, I want to be with him and the Company,_  she realized. The revelation made her start of surprise. She'd thought often enough about returning to Erebor, about living with the dwarrow. However, it all rested on if she and Thorin could truly work things out.  _Until I know we can,_  she promised herself  _I'll keep it a secret_. At least for now, she had the chance to see first if she could work things out with Thorin.

For a while they stood there together in silence. As the shadows lengthened, however, Bilba sighed and turned back to the camp. She did not want to leave Thorin. They'd had a good conversation and they were on good ground now as friends, she thought. Her stomach was beginning to grumble though, and she didn't want to abandon Primula. Already, her kinswoman had taken on so many of Bilba's responsibilities. Therefore, with some reluctance she voiced her need to return.

"Can we perhaps go for another walk tomorrow?" she blurted before they reached the smial. She glanced nervously over at Thorin, relieved when she saw a smile on his face.

"I would very much like that." he nodded. They shared a shy smile and then Bilba headed into the smial and Thorin towards the camp.

* * *

 

"Well?" Primula demanded as Bilba entered their little kitchen. Bilba felt unable to stop the smile that was quickly spreading across her visage. Primula raised an eyebrow and stopped kneading the bread. They didn't cook much inside anymore; sometimes they prepared the dough there, but that about it. No, lingering in the smial on cooking pretenses had become a means of securing privacy.

"He went to the Thain, to ask him to revoke my shunning and return Bag End and my inheritance." Bilba heard herself say faintly. Primula's jaw dropped in surprise.

"You have a hearing? He got you a  _hearing_?" Primula asked, her eyes going wide and Bilba could only nod.

"When?" Primula demanded, and Bilba realized she'd forgotten to ask. She shrugged and Primula frowned.

"We'll have to find out. It doesn't give you much time to prepare though!" she fretted.

"Prepare?" Bilba echoed, her mind still on the conversation, and her feelings for Thorin.

"For your Presentation of course! It's not just a hearing after all is it? If the Thain reinstates you then you were never formally Presented as the Baggins of Bag End! You'll have to do that too or else what's the good of any inheritance he might return to your name? You wouldn't be able to claim it, you couldn't even respectfully host the dwarrow as your guests! Just because you wouldn't be shunned any more, doesn't mean you can ignore the traditions. You're just distracted right? You haven't actually forgotten?" Primula put her hands on her hips and glared at Bilba who felt the color drain from her face. She hadn't forgotten, no, but she had certainly reprioritized.

Of course though Primula was right. Bilba had come of age when the dwarrow arrived, but she had not been formally presented. Since her parents had died when she was young she'd been fostered with various family members. When she'd finally turned thirty-three she'd insisted on moving back into her own smial. As an adult, she had the right to live alone. Where other hobbits would usually have their Presentation as well, she'd opted to put hers off. Until she was Presented, however, she could not officially entertain guests. That had been partly the cause of her hesitation. She wanted the time to settle her life before she had teas and such to attend and host. Unfortunately, however, until she did it she could not be recognized as an adult in their society.

To pass her Presentation, Bilba had to prove herself to the head Matriarch of the Baggins family. Bilba's talents as a hostess and a cook would show if she was worthy of upholding the family honor. Usually, Presentations consisted of hosting tea and dinner. The Matriarch was known for grilling the unfortunate host on various touchy subjects. If she comported herself well she'd pass and become a fully fledged adult member of the family. Now, considering how she'd behaved, Bilba wasn't sure what she'd have to do. Surely she'd already ruined the Baggins reputation with her actions. Either way, she hadn't even prepared traditional Baggins dishes in a long while. She still had the recipe book somewhere, but most of the ingredients were hard to come by. Food for a Presentation too would take days to cook. Not that she'd be able to take that time. No, she'd go to her hearing with the Thain and then straight to the Matriarch assuming that all went well.

"Oh dear." Bilba summarized her thoughts, looking at Primula who nodded.

"Well, you'll need all the details from that King of yours, and fast if you're to prepare everything. I'll see about getting the groceries you'll need. Also, we'll have to see about getting you another dress. That one certainly won't do. As for your hair, well, perhaps Dís and I can think of something mutually acceptable." Primula was in full efficiency mode. Bilba's hair fell to her waist now, and she was loathe to cut it. Certainly, it was hobbit fashion to wear it shorter, but it was also true the dwarrow would never let her cut it. She liked it long too, and no matter how much of a respectable Baggins she was to be she was also a dwarrow Queen.

"What ever would I do without you?" she murmured to Primula.

"Likely run off or starve." Primula replied bluntly. "But come, help me with this bread. We'll deal with your hearing and Presentation after dinner. Surely, we can wrangle more information from your dwarf." Bilba nodded, and moved to help her kinswoman. She helped Primula, or tried to, because her thoughts were far from the bread dough under her palms.


	20. nineteen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bilba meets with the Thain.

**AN: Sorry all for the late update, school's been getting pretty stressful! Anyways, doing my best to keep writing when I have time :) Really interested to hear what you guys think of this chapter, things are about to change a bit! I think I know where the story's going to head from here too, but you never know ;) I always love suggestions and feedback :D Thanks to everyone who read, left kudos, bookmarked and especially to those of you who left comments :D**

* * *

_nineteen_

Raven

* * *

**_Tuckborough, Tookland_ **

**_17 November 2958_ **

"Are meetings always so  _long_?" Kíli worried, while Raven picked at the plate of food placed in front of her.

"Whenever I have spoken with the Thain, he was not one to rush." Fíli acknowledged while Kíli scowled.

"I don't like it. Uncle already spoke him, you were there. Things should have been settled. This is a formality, is all." Kíli insisted.

"You know that even formalities can take time." Tauriel spoke softly, though she remained insistent. Across the table, she caught Raven's gaze and offered her a smile. "Patience, is something you would do well to learn, and not from this lot." she said, winking at Raven. It was true though, the dwarrow were on the whole an impatient lot.

* * *

A fortnight ago, Thorin and Fíli had returned to the smial with the new of the Thain's promise of a hearing. Since then, Bilba and Raven had had a short conversation about whether or not to go. Raven knew, however, how important the opportunity was for Bilba. She might never be close to her hobbit family, but she had always been different. This was an opportunity to try to make an amends, and Raven knew Bilba wanted it. Thus, they had packed their meager belongings and bid their smial farewell.

The elves and Estel had left early on the morning after Thorin's return, promising to visit them in Hobbiton. Primula had also departed before them. She was first to send a letter to the Baggins matriarch asking about Bilba's presentation. They were all assuming that things would go well with the Thain. After all, it hardly seemed likely that Thorin would offer Bilba such an apology without its assured success. Then, she had chosen to continue on to Buckland to spend some time with family. Raven missed her, but it wasn't exactly the first time that Primula had left.

Everything though was changing. Raven had even been given a break from her studies. Of course, Bilba had been fairly busy; packing and testing out old recipes. Not to mention the late night meals when she would catch up with the Company. Raven didn't remember ever seeing Bilba so happy before. It made her realize now too how sad Bilba must have been for so long.

When Bilba wasn't otherwise occupied, she she could also be found speaking with Thorin. Of course, Raven had noticed the walks that her parents took. They had a habit of lasting several hours, but so long as they both returned smiling, she had no complaints. In all honesty, she was rather glad for the walks. She knew her parents deserved to be happy; she wanted to see them thus.

Her own study-free days had consisted of training and playing with Bombur's sons. Raven liked the energetic young dwarrow. Baldur and Elsbur, were always happy to play or explore with her. Of course their wandering had gotten them in trouble a few times. Raven had realized then that, no matter how stern Thorin appeared, he wasn't actually angry with her. Plus, if she appeared miserable enough he tended to give up all together on being upset with her. The first time that she'd pulled such a trick in front of Dís, the dwarrowdam had laughed. Fíli and Kíli had noticed not long after and had pouted, claiming that Thorin never went so easy on them. Dís's expression over their shoulders suggested that she had a different memory.

* * *

They had departed from the smial a week ago. It hadn't been everyone in the camp. Bilba had needed to present herself to the Thain in Tuckborough, and Raven was of course going with her. The Company had naturally volunteered to accompany with them. There were a few additions though, Dís, Lívói, Gimli, and Tauriel all insisting on going with them. The two dwarrowdams had claimed that, if Bilba was to be presented as Queen she would need ladies. Elsba had apologized to Bilba, feeling bad for not going as well. Two ladies, one a princess, she'd argued, were hardly a fitting retinue for a queen. However, since the boys were not to accompany the group she felt it was wrong to leave her children. Bilba had waved off the dwarrowdam's concerns. Of course she'd insisted that family came first. Bilba after all wasn't used to having ladies, and if Elsba wanted to join them later then she would be welcome. Dís had laughed at Bilba's obvious discomfort at the prospect of ladies. Raven's aunt had promised that this would only be the beginning. No one had responded to that assertion. No one was sure how to. Gimli was a strong young warrior, and refused to hear of letting the Company go without him. Instead, quietly, he had saddled his own mount. Tauriel likewise had never considered being left behind. Where Kíli went after all so did she.

Raven hadn't known the elf well before. She had been quiet around the smial, keeping to herself for the most part. On the trip, however, she'd begun to get to know the warrior. The more that she talked to Tauriel, the more she liked her elven cousin. It seemed that most of the Comapny had come to like Tauriel. If ever asked in public, however, they'd deny it and there was a lot of teasing about elves that went around on the trip. The trip itself had been easy enough. Raven luckily had not been sore from riding, though it was her first time. All of the dwarrow had found it great fun to give her various pointers. Better still, they had also told numerous stories about their Quest. There was a lot of laughter from everyone during those stories, and Raven listened avidly. She herself had been getting to know the Company, and they really had all become like uncles to her. They were certainly trying to spoil her rotten; letting her get away with everything. Though, at times, they could also be incredibly overprotective. She couldn't bring herself to begrudge them, however, and she realized that she'd come to love each of them.

* * *

They had arrived in Tuckborough the night before. They had found rooms in the public house, and slept soundly. In the morning, when Raven had woken, Bilba was already in her meeting. That was how she'd found herself seated at a table with her family, Balin, Dwalin, and Gimli. She ate her way first through breakfast and then through lunch while they all snacked and talked. As the lunch hour approached, Thorin, Dís, Balin, and Nori had disappeared. Silently, Dwalin had trailed behind them for protection. Raven suspected that they were off in search of news about how Bilba's meeting was going. At nearby tables the rest of the Company talked, snacked, and smoked while they waited. The other half of the public house was full of curious hobbits who were ducking in and out. All were apparently eager to catch a glimpse of the dwarrow party. Raven pretended not to notice that the Company had formed a wall between her table and the hobbits. In another act of overprotectiveness, they shielded her bodily from their prying gazes.

"Formalities don't have to take  _so_  long though," Kíli complained. With a sigh, Tauriel leaned over and kissed his cheek in a soothing manner. She murmured something to him, too low for Raven to hear, and he smiled at her.

"Do you have to do  _that_  here?" Gimli grumbled, while Fíli moved closer to Raven, away from the romantic couple.

"One day, Gimli, you'll understand." Kíli teased his friend.

"One day  _many_  days from now." Glóin interjected from the neighboring table while Lívói shook her head at her husband's insistence.

The dwarrowdam was dressed in a beautiful burgandy gown. They were her family's colors, Raven suspected. Even she had a new dress from Dori for the ocassion. It was a lovely shade of blue, which Thorin had explained was the color of their house. He, Dís, Fíli, and Kíli, all wore garments of a similar shade. Today, she and Bilba both had new dresses that included them in the family. It made Raven feel proud. She loved her dwarrow family. Around them, she felt at ease and, strangely, she knew that she was truly accepted.

At the beginning of the morning, she had noticed that the Company were all dressed in nicer tunics. Their normal armor and traveling clothes were all missing. Moreover, their braids had been re-done too.  _They're an impressive group_ , Raven reflected. Half-consciously, she reached up to touch her own braids. They were another indicator of her dwarrow heritage; another reason for her to be proud.

When she had arrived at the table that morning, Thorin had quietly asked if he might do her hair. Dís and Fíli had both done it for her before, and she had nodded, turning so that he could reach her long locks. While he braided, he had carefully explained to her more about dwarrow braids. Although Dís and Fíli had been doing her hair, they had not created a stylized braid for her. That was his right as her father. He had skillfully woven her hair into a pattern that was unique to her. Eventually, he had promised, he would craft her a hair bead of her own. Or, rather, he would if she'd let him. She had agreed without hesitation, and he had beamed back at her. Now, the thought of her hair made her smile. For years as a child she had dreamed about having a relationship with her father; a relationship just like this.

"He did a good job." Raven startled, her face going pink as she realized that Fíli had been watching her. He reached out, brushing his fingers over the braid at her temple.

"It's a beautiful pattern." Raven nodded.

"He's obviously put a lot of thought into it." Fíli agreed, looking over his uncle's handiwork.

"He said that it was his right to design something for me." Raven began, shooting Fíli a hopeful glance.

"Usually it would be a conversation that both parents have. However, since Bilba doesn't braid her hair, at least not as we do traditionally, then it was Thorin's right. Every braid has a different meaning based on the pattern and placement. The braid pattern that he used is the same the he,  _Amad_ , Kíli, and I all use. It's a Durin braid, symbolically indicating that you are a direct daughter of Durin. Then, there's the way that the braids are used. Thorin chose to use multiple strands so that he could use all of our clasps." Fíli delicately touched the four that Raven wore. One each from her immediate dwarrow family members.

"He said he would make me my own clasps," Raven interjected carefully. If she was being entirely truthful, however, she'd miss having the array. Fíli smiled at her implied question.

"Yes. Our father died before Kíli and I were old enough for clasps.  _Amad_  is not a metal smith, so she and Thorin made them together. She created the design and he brought it to life, he's a master smith, who taught me everything that I know." Fíli said with a smile. "The most basic hair clip is a simplified version of a family's house crest. As dwarrow all the family lines have a geometrical pattern. Then, of course the trade guilds have other patterns. You can use them to layer over top to establish a unique identity pattern. Our family all share the pattern that indicates the line of Durin. Thorin and I both have the symbol of Kingship too," Fíli removed one of his claps to show Raven. She had briefly learned about the importance of hair. Dwarrow after all attached their honor to their hair. Raven also knew that each dwarf's beads were unique. She had never understood the full meaning of the craftsmanship, but it was a part of her culture now too. She listened, hanging on to each of Fíli's words as he explained this one aspect to her. Often, their conversations had been more lighthearted. Fíli, however, was good at these kinds of explanations. She liked that he always made sure that Raven didn't feel badly about her ignorance.

* * *

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to interrupt your discussion," Raven looked up to see Bilba standing at her side. Raven had become so focused on Fíli's explanation that she hadn't noticed Bilba's return.

"Ma!" she leapt to her feet. "What happened?" she demanded eagerly, aware that Thorin, Dís, Balin, Dwalin, and Nori had all returned as well.

"The Thain would like to meet his great granddaughter." Bilba replied, and Raven grinned, wrapping Bilba in a tight hug.

"I knew it!" she beamed while the other dwarrow all cheered.

"So Bag End is yours again?" Bofur asked with a grin.

"Yes, the Thain will write a letter, but he leaves the actual eviction to us." Bilba said with a grin and there were more cheers. "Still, first, he'd like to meet Raven, and then we're all invited to a feast tonight." Raven nodded, and let Bilba lead her away.

"What else did he want?" she heard Fíli ask.

"The hobbits back, that was the main thing. Apparently, now since Bilba and Raven are recognized they will be punished accordingly. I agreed so long as we can come up with an adequate punishment together. Also, I refused to let him have their leader, but he was happy enough." Raven heard Thorin say as they headed back out of the common area. Bilba led Raven towards a hallway with private sitting rooms where the Thain was waiting.

"Bilba!"

"Aunty Bilba!"

"Cousin Bilba!" their progress was suddenly stopped by numerous hobbits. The crowd had obviously overheard that Bilba was no longer shunned. Just like that, however, Bilba was no longer Mad Baggins. Raven frowned, but at a nudge from Bilba did her best to smile at the inquiring hobbits. They all seemed very friendly and it was almost as though the last sixteen years hadn't happened.  _It's strange,_  Raven decided,  _because the last sixteen years did happen, and I can't forget them_.

"I'm afraid that grandfather's waiting, but I'm sure we'll have more time to talk tonight at the feast." Bilba said, dancing around various family members whom Raven had never heard of. The promise of a feast, however, was enough to distract most of them. Slipping away, Raven could see behind them that more than one dwarrow had been watching. Apparently, they'd been ready to intercede if need be.

* * *

After the press of hobbits in the common room, Raven suddenly felt unsure about meeting the Thain. She had always imagined that she'd be defending herself and Bilba against him. After the hobbits' reception, however, she worried that she'd be facing some sort of family reunion instead.

"Ready?" Bilba asked her softly, sensing her hesitations.

"Is he going to like me?" Raven asked nervously.

"He is excited to meet you," Bilba stepped closer to Raven, meeting her gaze. "I know, it's a lot to take in, hobbits, well, we're strange. Forgiveness comes easily, obviously. If the Thain says that I'm not shunned then, I'm not. It is as though none of the past sixteen years happened. It's a lot to process, and it will be an adjustment, but I am here, whatever you need Raven. I promise. I know that they can be a nosy lot and very different from the dwarrow, but they can be nice too if you give them the chance."

"So it really is like nothing happened? That's how they'll treat us and how we should treat them?" Raven whispered.

"Well, it is how they will treat us," Bilba nodded, "but how we treat them? That's up to us."

"And what are you going to do?" Raven whispered.

"I think, that it would be best if I followed their lead," Bilba replied carefully. She never once dropped Raven's gaze though as she made her decision. "I don't know what's going to happen in the future, but Bag End is going to be our home for now. I want it to work out for us, do you think that might be possible?"

"I don't want things to be like they were," Raven glanced back towards the main area. "Those hobbits, they seemed that they liked you, that you were close? Is that true?"

"Well, I was raised amongst them. I was close to some of them, and they're Tooks for the most part. They're a lot more open minded than other hobbits." Bilba replied.

"So you got into lots of trouble with them then?" Raven teased, and Bilba's eyes narrowed.

"Just how many stories has Primula been telling you?" she asked.

"Enough," Raven shrugged. "Plus, with all the trouble that you and Pa have gotten in to? Well, I think I could do anything and not ever get myself in as much trouble as you two." Raven met Bilba's eyes and for a moment there was silence as Bilba conceded to her point, and then both of them laughed.

"I believe, you might have us at that one, but do try not to get caught at least? Then we can feign ignorance." Bilba proposed and Raven nodded.

"I think I might be good at that. I am the daughter of a Barrel-Riding-Riddling-Burglar after all." Raven winked at Bilba, who pulled her close enough to press a kiss to her forehead.

"We're going to be okay, whatever happens, because we're always going to have each other." Bilba murmured in her ear.

"I know." Raven repeated. She remembered the countless other times that Bilba had made that same promise. No matter how bad things had gotten, however, she'd made sure it was true. They had made it; together.

"Shall we go introduce you to your great grandfather?" Bilba proposed.

"I think I'm ready." Raven nodded, and then Bilba swung the door open and led her into the private room.

* * *

The Thain wasn't at all what Raven was expecting. Still, she hadn't exactly heard good accounts. Fíli was always tense after his meetings and Primula had been upset about his treatment of Bilba. When Raven met him, however, he was nothing short of friendly. He wanted to know all about her, had pressed biscuit after biscuit at her, and had in general seemed to dote on her. Although Raven found herself smiling, he did not evoke any of the same attachment that she felt for the Company.

When their audience was over, Raven felt exhausted.

"Are all hobbits that much energy?" she asked softly as she and Bilba walked away to get ready for the feast. Not that Raven really wanted to go.

"The Tooks usually are." Bilba nodded.

"And I thought that Fíli and Kíli were bad." Raven said, and Bilba laughed.

"Oh just wait until you see the shenanigans that Tooks your age get in to," Bilba paused. Then, she sternly met Raven's gaze, "not that I'm condoning such behavior." she teased and Raven laughed. Then, suddenly, strong arms wrapped around her and twirled her around.

"And what did I hear about my brother and I?" Kíli teased as Raven let out an involuntary shriek of laughter and surprise. "That doesn't sound like a confession, yet," Kíli threatened, starting to tickle her sides.

"Fíli!" Raven shrieked, trying to fend off Kíli while Bilba retreated back to the rest of the Company. The common room had emptied, the hobbits off to go and prepare for the feast. In the empty space, Raven didn't care about how loud she was being. "Fíli help me!" she begged her older cousin as Kíli kept tickling her. Fíli was already on his way over, but it was not to help her as she'd hoped. He grinned as Kíli tossed her to him, and Raven found herself mercilessly caught between her two cousins. It wasn't the first time that they'd done this. Likely, it wouldn't be the last either. Not that she really minded. They always seemed to know when she was in need of cheering up.

"Alright, that's enough." Dís eventually put an end to their play. She swept over, straightening Raven's dress and hair as best as she could. "You're still all royalty, you can have fun, but do try not to act like utter hooligans." she scolded, though her eyes were twinkling with mirth. Glancing towards Thorin, Raven saw that he and Dwalin were watching and chuckling as well.

"Yes, Amad," Fíli and Kíli chorused obediently to their mother.

"Just, if anyone asks you to help them forage for mushrooms or go on a raid then say no." Bilba said, loud enough to carry.

"Why's that?" Fíli and Kíli exchanged a mischievous glance. Then, they plopped down on the bench on either side of Bilba, who had been enjoying a tankard of ale.

"Because it means that you're getting roped into stealing, and you'll probably be caught." Bilba said to the cheers and chuckles of the Company.

"I suppose you say this from experience?" Kíli teased.

"I happened to be quite good at not getting caught. I did say after all that I had some experience when you interviewed me for my place in your Company." Bilba sniffed, adopting a prudish tone and the Company burst out laughing.

"So your qualification, Lass, was stealing mushrooms?" Glóin shook his head.

"Never try to take mushrooms from a hobbit, Master Dwarf." Bilba warned him with a smile of her own. "Wars have been fought over less." she leaned back in her chair, with a contented sigh. "You see, we hobbits are quite a strange folk," the merriment faded away as the dwarrow clung to Bilba's words. "We forgive and forget with no difficulty because it's simply not in our nature to hold a grudge. Well, not unless something tried to eat or kill us or our families." There were a few more chuckles and Raven found herself smiling. Bilba had always had a way of capturing an audience's attention. "In any case, ew move past actual grievances pretty easily. Steal someone's mushrooms? Ruin a garden? Insult someone's cooking? Or, worst of all, dare to trick a poor hobbit into sharing a secret recipe? And you'll have started war for sure. Think of it though as a rite of passage. Every Took here's gone out stealing mushrooms and crops. For the Brandybucks it's such a tradition that every one always the Maggot Family crops. Get away without being caught and you have gained respect. Get caught? You'll never live it down." Bilba nodded as if giving sagely advice. As the story finished, tankards were raised and toasts called out and the Company drank to her words.

* * *

The evening ended up being much as Raven imagined. There was more food and ale than seemed possible to consume. When hobbits weren't eating then there was also plenty of music, dancing, and games. In honor of Bilba, conkers and riddle matches were at the heart of the celebrations. As the infamous champion of conkers, Bilba of course had to enter. Raven laughed along with all the rest as she watched Bilba compete. She did have some skill, it was true, though Raven wasn't sure really of the game's value. They hadn't had time for such trivial pursuits usually at the smial. In the winter though, when there wasn't much to do, Raven had been taught the game. It wasn't nearly as fun as the competition that she watched with fifty or more hobbit contestants.

"Didn't she say she had some skill with conkers when you asked about her weapons proficiency?" Raven heard Ori murmur within the earshot of Dwalin and Thorin. She smiled too at the looks of shocked remembrance.

"Well, I suppose it does take some aim," Fíli offered uncertainly.

"So we had a conkers champion and a slingshot-wielding dwarf. Dwalin, as my master at arms, what were you thinking?" Thorin clapped a hand on the warrior's arm while the rest of the Company laughed loudly. A few hobbits nearby looked at them in concern, and moved away a little.

"Thirteen, not the best nor the brightest." Dwalin replied without missing a beat.

* * *

As the evening progressed, Bilba proved not to be the conkers champion. She had brushed it off with good humor, only grumbling a little. Apparently, it was of great importance to prepare one's own conkers. Of course though, for that comment she'd received a fair amount of teasing about cheating. It seemed though to be a circular argument. Every hobbit had their own tricks after all, but whether it was cheating or not, no one could decide. Regardless of cheating, Bilba had still done well at conkers over all, even if she hadn't won.

Following the conkers game, the hobbits had eagerly engaged Bilba in a riddle game. They seemed determined to prove that Bilba was the same as when she'd left Tuckborough. Or, at least, no crazier. When it came to the riddles game, Bilba proved to be the hands down champion. Raven wasn't surprised. Bilba had always had a very sharp mind. Bilba herself had laughed about how much easier riddles were to figure out when one's life wasn't at stake. Raven remembered the story of the creature by the dark lake and Bilba's resourcefulness. It had been one of her favorite stories, after all. The looks of suspicion that crossed the Company's faces made Raven consider warning Bilba. She chose to stay silent on the matter, though she could feel more than one questioning glance shot her way.

When the feasting was finally over, Raven watched as adults and children alike gathered around Bilba. They were all demanding that she tell the story of her adventure. Raven loved to listen to stories and, she thought, Bilba enjoyed telling them. Now, she suspected that another story was indeed coming. The dwarrow had all gathered about as well. Clearly, they were intrigued about which story Bilba would tell.

"One night, not far from the edge of the Shire, I was sent to give the lads their dinner. Only, when I got there I found that in their guarding of our faithful ponies we'd lost two." Bilba began, shooting a teasing look in Fíli and Kíli's direction. Raven heard as there were soft groans from the Company. Of course, they knew exactly where her story was going. Raven knew about the trolls, though she was eager to hear the story again. "So, the decision to investigate was made. The instructions I was given were to hoot twice like a barn owl and once like a brown owl, if I needed help." As Bilba continued, Raven was very aware both of Fíli and Kíli trying to shrink in their seats. "Of course, I had no idea about the difference in bird sounds. Nevertheless, I found myself on the edge of the clearing and quite alone. Well, I figured, I was part Took," there was a cheer from the hobbits. "And so, I was not about to disappoint. They were only trolls after all, large, slow and stupid so how wrong could things go?" Bilba had her hobbit audience held captive. The dwarrow on the other hand were shaking their heads in memory and shooting glares at said lads. Raven had to bite her lip to stop from giggling, especially when Fíli and Kíli withered under Dís's reproving glare.

Bilba's story was well-received, worms in the tubes and all. Even the Company had their own laughs at the recollection. Then, other hobbits were pipping up with their own stories. None of them could possibly compete with the excitement that Bilba evoked with her story. Still, no matter how they begged, she had refused to tell any more. The hobbits all but begged Bilba for another story, but it was without success. After each question Raven couldn't miss the way that Bilba sought out Thorin's gaze. Although Bilba only gave out vague answers, her parents continued their silent conversations.

Raven didn't sit with Bilba at the centre of the party. Instead, she was content to sit off to the side with Tauriel. Already during the feast she'd met a great number of relations that she never knew she had. As the hours dragged on she found herself struggling more and more not to yawn. Her eyes were also beginning to water with exhaustion, not that she dared admit it.

As a story about mushroom stealing finished, attention returned to Bilba and her adventures. Raven caught the way that Thorin's shoulder hunched ever so slightly at the questions. Watching him, she noticed the tenseness that filled his form as Bilba distracted the hobbits. Quietly, Raven rose to her own feet, moving over to sit by Thorin's side.

"Ma's never told me much about Erebor. I know she went to be your burglar, and I know that she woke the dragon, that they talked, but she doesn't say anything else. Not even to me, so whatever happened between you two? She's not about to tell it to this bunch of nosy hobbits." she murmured, too low for anyone else to hear. Thorin paused, glancing in her direction and she gave a little shrug.

"Do you want to know more?" Thorin asked her softly.

"I do. When you're ready to tell me, that is, the both of you, together. I already know that she left because she thought she was exiled. She told me that there was a problem between you, a misunderstanding about the Arkenstone. She's never told me, but she's afraid that you'd come and take me away. She's never really told me why, but I've picked up some things. Just, strung together bits of the story that I've overheard. I learned the most when she was upset with Gandalf. She explained some more of it then, but whatever happened? She does feel bad about it and I don't like to make Ma sad." Raven murmured.

"I will tell you. All of it. I promise. But, this is not the place to have such a conversation." Thorin said, and Raven nodded, suspecting that his offer was obligation-based.

"I know that you had the gold sickness. I don't really understand what it was, but I know that whatever happened, you weren't yourself, and I don't blame you for it. You're my Pa, and I know that you love me and Ma. You'll protect us and fight for our family just the same as Fíli, Kíli, Dís and all the rest of the Company." Raven blurted, locking her gaze with Thorin's. She saw the warmth reflected in his gaze, and offered him a small smile. "I trust you, and I always will." she promised, and he reached out and gently drew her to him, pressing her forehead against his.

"I will always do everything in my power to make sure you never question that trust. I will fight for you, give my life for you. I love you too, Raven, you make me very proud to be your  _Adad_." Thorin whispered to her and Raven beamed.  _No matter what he has to say, he is my Pa, and I want to make him proud. I want him to always love me_ , Raven resolved. For the first time, since she had realized that Thorin drove Bilba away, she was certain of her assertion.

* * *

Raven sat beside Thorin, leaning sleepily against him, while he wrapped an arm around her. She was only half listening to the stories and songs as her eyes drifted closed. Luckily, it seemed she was not the only one who was tired, and the evening ended not long after.

As the hobbits departed to their own accommodations, Raven felt as someone picked up. Her eyes flew open at first as she realized that Thorin was carrying her as though she was still a little girl. She supposed she still was young, especially in dwarrow eyes. At the smial she had been forced to grow up fast, because Bilba and Primula had needed her help. She had recently become taller and stronger than them. Compared to the dwarrow, she was petite and weak though; still a child. She wanted to protest, to say that she was too old to be carried. Instead, she found herself burying her head in Thorin's chest and letting him carry her up the stairs. They had taken over a wing in the boarding house, though they all had to share rooms. Luckily, their hall had a door, so Raven found herself bundled up into the room that she was sharing with Bilba. If they had been under stricter scrutiny it might have seemed odd for Thorin and Bilba not to share a room. In the privacy of their hallway, however, no one outside their Company knew any better.

"She must have been exhausted, she usually is very determined to be independent and grown up." Raven heard Bilba comment.

"It was a busy day, lots of meetings and changes. You've raised her well, Bilba, her manners and nature are she a testament to your parenting." Thorin replied, and Raven felt a thrill of contentment at his praise.

"She's always reminded me of you as well," Bilba murmured. "She has the same determination. I know you'll say you never met anyone as pig-headed as me, but I'd dare say you gave as good as I ever did." Raven listened to her parents chuckle. She was vaguely aware that they talked a while longer. Their words, however, stopped making sense and she slipped into a deep sleep.

* * *

Sometime, in the middle of the night Raven woke. She was curled up in the bed beside Bilba, who was also fast asleep and snoring lightly. Raven suspected the ale that Bilba had drunk caused the snoring, not that she really minded. The dwarrow, after all, were a force to be reckoned with when it came to snoring.

In spite of her continued exhaustion, however, she found herself unable to return to sleep. Lying there, Raven recalled the past evening and then the weeks since the dwarrow arrived.  _So_ , she mused,  _now I know what it is to have a family. Both, a dwarrow family and now a hobbit one as well_. She realized too that she'd liked the evening. She'd enjoyed watching Bilba laugh so freely, and the cheery nature of the hobbits was contagious. What she liked the most though, was having her extended dwarrow family with her.

_I don't think,_  Raven realized with a shock,  _I could get used to life without the dwarrow now._  She knew that no matter how cheery the hobbits could be,  _I wouldn't want to be without Fíli, Kíli, Dís, Thorin, or any of the others. I want to go to Erebor,_  she concluded, _come the spring, I want to go with them when they have to leave._

In spite of her conviction, however, Raven knew in her heart that she could not possibly admit that to Bilba.  _At least, not without hurting her,_ she mourned and she would not let her selfish dreams hurt Bilba. Already, she'd sacrificed so much for Raven's well-being.  _I'll just have to make sure that Ma wants to go with Pa too,_  Raven decided. She thought back to her parents' soft conversation earlier. Of course she'd seen the two on their walks. There were frequent smiles passed between them. Given her most recent realization, however, a new determination filled her. She would see her parents together again, she had to.  _They belong together, they're right for each other,_  Raven concluded. Then, she found herself drifting back to sleep.


	21. twenty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dís and Bilba have a heart-to-heart. Bilba and Company reclaim Bag End.

**AN:** Firstly, so sorry for the long wait for chapters! My last semester of university is wrapping up and things have gotten really busy. That being said, it might be a few more weeks before I get back in the swing of writing, school's been utterly exhausting! Thank you to everyone for reading, leaving kudos and commenting! Let me know what you think :) Confrontation now and some fluff with Thorin and Bilba to come before we get back to those plotting dwarrow! :)

* * *

_twenty_

Dís

* * *

**_Outskirts of Hobbiton_ **

**_22 November 2958_ **

Sometimes Dís wondered how Thorin had succeeded in retaking Erebor. Watching Bofur dance around the campfire, she found herself torn between exasperation and humor. Her sons and Gimli followed the spectacle's key performer. As the rest of the Company laughed and clapped, Dís smiled as well. She hadn't seen her boys acting this freely in a while. Even around Raven, although they were undeniably happy they hadn't been boyish. They would protect Raven and Bilba, and that was in and of itself a weighty expectation. Still, as the quartet rolled perilously close to the flames Dís could only wonder what disaster was to come.

They had left Tucksborough on the morning of the 19th. It wasn't an unpleasant journey either, their saddlebags stuffed with supplies. A fair number of curious hobbits had trailed after them at first too. Luckily, they had taken leave of their escort when they stopped for elevensies. It had been a mere hour into the trip and luckily Bilba and Raven both said that they weren't hungry. Dís had to admit that cantering off felt freeing. The beautiful late fall weather and her own need to be active only enhanced her satisfaction. The hobbits had been a friendly group, still it was odd to her that Bilba had accepted her kin back so quickly. Indeed, it was almost as though nothing had happened, but out of respect for the hobbit, Dís hadn't dared to say anything.  _If only I'd done my own due diligence. If only I had thought to check if Bilba was alive. I would have made Thorin come a lot sooner,_  Dís mourned.  _Life would have been much more different, much better I think for everyone involved._

Thinking of Bilba, Dís looked around the camp and noticed that Bilba and Raven were both missing. She frowned slightly, but catching Dwalin's gaze, he nodded slightly towards a stand of trees. Peering into the darkness, and cursing her aging eye sight, Dís was just able to make out two shadows seated side by side. Apparently, Bilba and Raven were having a private conversation. Dwalin and the others wouldn't intrude, but they would always keep an eye on both females. While Bofur collapsed, tackled by the three younger dwarrow, Thorin moved towards Dís. A few of the Company looked over, but he waved at them to continue, and her sons were only too happy to keep carousing.

"I've missed seeing them like this." Dís said without preamble as her brother settled beside her.

"I have as well." Thorin agreed while Fíli and Kíli's laughter rang through the clearing. "I'm sorry, Dís, for what I've put you through." Thorin said suddenly. For a moment she stiffened, looking over to her brother before she nodded once.

"Are you back then?" she asked, glancing in his direction. He looked at her, his gaze meeting hers as he nodded ever so slightly.

"I hope so." he said and she pivoted closer to him. He wrapped an arm around her and she smiled. They had sat like this so many times in Ered Luin, but never recently. Dís turned into his embrace so that they could gently knock their heads together. They could be a formidable team when they worked together. Since the boys had come of age, however, those occurrences had become far too infrequent.

"Do better for Raven." Dís ordered and Thorin nodded. She knew that it was hard for Thorin, but though she could stand on her own, Dís wasn't sure about Raven's strength. Nor, in all honesty, did she want to test her niece's fortitude.

"I'll do better by both of them. Bilba's agreed to allow me to court her, and I don't intend to ruin that chance. You know I've always seen Fíli and Kíli as my own boys," Thorin trailed off, and Dís placed a hand over her brother's.

"But I know you always wanted your own children too." Dís said gently, and Thorin smiled almost shyly back. "We've always wanted you to be happy, to have the chance to have a family of your own." she assured him.

"If anything ever happened to me, Dís-"

"I'll be offended if you finish that." Dís interrupted and Thorin smiled gently at her.

"Thank you." he nodded.

"Just don't mess it up, Thorin. We don't usually get a second chance, so don't waste it." Dís fixed her elder brother with a hard stare, feeling a pang of longing for her own lost One.  _If Víli was alive again, if only we had that chance,_  Dís had to cut herself off.

"I don't intend to." Thorin looked over to where one figure was making her way back towards the camp. They both watched as Raven walked towards them.

"Don't hide yourself from her." Dís murmured insistently. She could remember the many nights that he had spent with her boys, unguarded as he smiled and laughed with them. Dís knew that it would be hard to break those habits now, but she would help him; how ever she could.

"I'm trying." Thorin replied softly. "Raven," he motioned his daughter over to them. Raven, who had been hovering, unsure of whether to go to the rowdy Company or to them, hurried to Thorin's side. She took his extended hand, and he drew her close to him. She seemed a little surprised, but not at all unhappy or uncomfortable.

"Ma wants to know if she could talk to you, Auntie Dís?" Raven asked softly as she leaned against Thorin. Dís felt a ripple of surprise before she nodded and rose.

* * *

She and Bilba were on friendly terms, but the hobbit had never specifically asked for her. Dís found herself curious as she headed into the woods towards where the hobbit was sitting. As she got closer, she hesitated, aware of the soft sounds of crying. Bilba was crying. Dís felt moment of uncertainty.  _Was she crying when she sent Raven to get me? Does she want me to be here?_  knowing that uncertainty was unbecoming, Dís squared her shoulders and continued forward.

"Bilba?" she murmured as she approached carefully.

"Oh, Dís," Bilba squeaked, reaching up and wiping at her eyes.

"You don't need to do that." Dís blurted and Bilba turned, looking up at her. "We all need some time to ourselves, and if you wanted, I would be happy to listen and to talk."

"I don't want to be a bother," Bilba hesitated, and Dís found herself smiling. She'd mothered her brother and sons so many times, not to mention a few other members of the Company. It wasn't as if she'd never seen seen tears before. Not to mention, if Bilba trusted her enough then she'd be happy to be a shoulder for her sister-in-law to lean on.

"If you trusted me with your confidence, it would be my honor, Bilba Belladonna Baggins." Dís said, and without an invitation she moved forward to Bilba's side and sat down.

"I fled Hobbiton in disgrace, Dís. I was pregnant, scared, and alone. Before the Quest, I wasn't exactly friends with the other hobbits, but I was accepted and respected. Now, I don't know what I'm walking back into and I have Raven to think about too." Dís felt a flash of relief when the hobbit began to speak before a chill settled over her.

"Do you think that there will be trouble?" Dís asked, keeping her voice carefully neutral.

"No." Bilba replied, twisting the fabric of her skirt in her hand. "I mean, not in the way you're thinking. Hobbits aren't usually inclined to physical violence. What happened with Raven? It's all but unheard of, I don't know what Lotho was thinking. As for tomorrow though, well, there are likely going to be verbal complications. I don't know for sure, but the Company are so protective of both of us. Ot wouldn't take much for them to take offense and I don't want there to be a fight. There's been enough drama with the hobbits that attacked Raven-"

Dís scowled as Bilba trailed off. Drama indeed. They had tarried in Tuckborough long enough for Thorin and Fíli to meet with the Thain. A final decision on the matter of the hobbits has also been made. Save for the ring leader, Lotho, the other hobbits were to be returned to face the Thain's judgement. Since Bilba and Raven were recognized, they'd be subjected to hobbit punishment, with one notable exception. Fíli had demanded that they be shaved; their heads and their feet. It would be done in the dwarrow fashion, ensuring that they would forever be bald. It was a small consolation, and most of the dwarrow still wanted their lives. Shunning, however, was the traditional punishment. Dís and the others accepted it as a way of making sure that Bilba's return went smoothly. It appeased Bilba's own sense of justice in hobbit terms and, they did have Nori with them. If the shunned hobbits quietly disappeared, well, who would care?

Dís had not been close to Nori before in Ered Luin, but she was quickly coming to value their spymaster. He was observant, wily, and unflinching at the chance to avenge those whom he loved. Of course, that now included all of the Company. As Erebor's spy master, Dís had interacted with him a little, but he preferred to keep a low profile and some anonymity. Usually one of his network was sent to speak with her when such conversations were required.

"Do you want me to talk to Thorin and the others?" Dís offered softly, returning to the topic at hand. Bilba was still sniffling a little and looked rather miserable with worry.

"No." Bilba hurried. "I mean, I didn't ask you here for that. I can talk to Thorin, I just," she trailed off.

"You wanted a friend?" Dís asked carefully, and Bilba shot her a curious glance. "You know, we are legally sisters," Dís offered and despite the dim light she could easily see the hope in Bilba's gaze.

"I suppose we are," Bilba hesitated.

"I don't blame you for what happened with my brother. I don't think we've really had a chance to talk, the two of us," Dís hurried. "Whatever happened, he was a fool. He never told me exactly what happened, but that just means that he knows I'd blame him. He means everything to me. He's my hero, Bilba, don't get me wrong. He raised me after Erebor fell, protected me, and when I lost Víli, my One, he helped me to raise and provide for the boys. He's always been a fool, though, taking on too much. He's often blind to what is right in front of him. He said that you were willing to try to work things out though-" Dís trailed off. Subtlety was never a strong-suit in her family. She could only hope that Bilba would be understanding.

"I love him." Bilba blurted and then flushed. "I mean, I never stopped. I should have, but I was, I am, foolish."

"He has that affect on people, I know." Dís nodded, and Bilba shrugged.

"I hated him when we first set off on our quest. Or, I wanted to. He hated me that was for certain. I was fat, foolish, helpless and annoying to him. I couldn't help but love him though, at least not after I saw the respect that the Company had for him. They were willing to risk their families for him, their loved ones. When he looked at the boys too, his eyes would always soften when he thought that no one was watching. Then, in Rivendell he found out I was female. He hated me even more after that, or so I thought, until the Carrock. I suppose were both frustrated and afraid of our feelings. After that though, well, things moved pretty quickly." Dís listened.

She had heard about the quest. Most of her knowledge, however, came from the historical account that Ori had written. On the rare occasion a member of the Company would slip up and mention something, but that was rare at best. Listening to Bilba, Dís found herself enraptured. It wasn't a smooth story like the one that she'd told to the hobbits at the party, but Bilba had a way about her. Dís kept silent as Bilba's emotions spilled out. Her love for Thorin, her hope for their future, her anguish when she realized that she was losing Thorin.  _Taking the Arkenstone was a last desperate attempt to save him,_  Dís realized with a shock. That had always the greatest mystery about Bilba in Dís opinion. Why, if she loved Thorin so much would she hurt him so badly. Clearly, Bilba knew Thorin's understanding of loyalty. She had known it would hurt him to give the stone to the elves and men, but Bilba had done it. She had acted on the sole hope that Thorin would come back to her. Of course, it hadn't worked that way and instead, he had nearly killed her and the Company had all turned their backs. That was when Bilba admitted her fear. During the Battle she had been so glad that the Company were inside Erebor, safe from the violence. When they'd rallied and emerged she'd gone to them. iInvisible and without any real battle skills she was all but asking for death. Still, she'd been unable to let them face danger alone.  _They are her family too,_  Dís was reminded. She saw the protectiveness and determination in the hobbit's gaze. It was a reciprocated feeling too; all the Company felt it for Bilba and Raven. As Bilba spoke, however, Dís barely dared to breathe in case it made the hobbit stop. She wanted to hear it all, to learn Bilba's story, and her respect grew with each word.

When the words finally came to a natural end, Dís regarded the hobbit in front of her in utter amazement. She was not just kind and brave, she was a miracle. She should have had feasts laid before her feet. She should have been praised if not outright worshipped for what she'd done for Dís's people. Instead, she had no idea how much she'd done, of how important she was to Dís's family.

"If something happened to me, Dís, would you make sure that Raven is looked after? Fíli and Kíli are a testament to your parenting. The boys, they saved me so many times on the Quest. If I can't be there for Raven, I want you to-" Bilba trailed off, and Dís felt thunderstruck.

It was one thing for Thorin to ask such a thing of her; of course as another Durin Princess she would look after Raven. Bilba, however, was not a dwarf; in fact they'd only just met. Raven meant everything to Bilba. This request, Bilba's trust, meant more than Dís could ever verbalize. After all, Fíli and Kíli had turned into respectable dwarrow, but she'd been constantly apologizing for her sons. Constantly hoping that they'd calm down on their own as they grew up. Dís had always done her best as a mother. She knew that she was fiercely protective, but she'd also always blamed her parenting for Fíli and Kíli's wild antics.

"You will be there for Raven, Bilba. I know that you'll be there." Dís hurried, and saw the hobbit's face fall. "But, if you ever cannot be, then yes, of course I promise."

"Thank you." Bilba murmured.

"No, it's you who I must thank, Bilba. You looked out for my boys, you would have given your life to protect all of them." Dís glanced back towards the light of their camp fire.

"Really, I only did what anyone else in my position-"

"No, you went above and beyond. You proved yourself a member of our family, Bilba, and I will never forget it. None of us will." Dís interrupted her, and Bilba looked down, her cheeks flushing pink.

"Well, I love them as though they were a part of my family too. They've certainly been better to me than most of my family. I lost my parents and siblings when I was young, and since then I never felt like I fit in. Not until the Quest." Bilba admitted quietly. "Leaving Erebor? It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, but having them all back again? It's a chance I only ever dreamed of, and well, I'd like to be part of your family again if you'd find that acceptable."

"I would be honored to call you sister." Dís replied with a smile that Bilba returned.

* * *

They continued to sit and talk for a while after. A lot of their conversation turned to the trials of raising children. Dís gladly admitted to Bilba how good Thorin had been with the boys. The hobbit's expression had become one of longing, and although Dís had stopped more than once. After all, it was not her intent to upset Bilba, however, the hobbit had begged her to continue. As they spoke, Dís could see the love and loyalty that Bilba felt for Thorin. It reassured Dís to see that there seemed to be hope for their future.

When the conversation dwindled to tired companionable silence, Bilba and Dís returned to the camp. Raven was sound asleep, curled in Thorin's arms. Bilba smiled at the sight and bedrolls were quickly set out. Sleeping nearby, however, Dís doubted that the hobbit got much sleep that night.

* * *

The next morning, Bilba said nothing and smiled cheerily as they headed into Hobbiton. As they rode through the village, Dís looked around at her surroundings in polite curiosity. Quite a few hobbits had appeared to watch Bilba's return. They didn't say anything, at least not directly to the party. They trekked through the little village and up the hill to a large green door at the top of the hill. When the party came to a stop, Dís watched Bilba carefully. Bilba held herself proudly as she walked through the gate and then marched up the door. After their conversation, Dís was sure that Bilba was nervous, but the hobbit didn't let it show.  _A good trait for a queen,_  Dís thought with a little smirk. Bilba had protested so many times before that she "wasn't queen material." Yet, the hobbit continued to prove just that time and time again.  _We'll just have to convince her of that,_  Dís thought as she glanced at Thorin who was watching Bilba. He looked ready to storm up to the door, though he remained close to the gate. He was protective but also respectful of the fact that this was Bilba's quest. At least, for now. The hobbit stooped, glancing at something on the doorstep. Then, smiling, she knocked loudly on the door.

The hobbit woman who had finally appeared had a scowl to curdle new milk as she took in Bilba.

"What do you want?" she sneered, while Thorin and Kíli moved closer to Bilba.

"Hello, Cousin Lobelia. I do hope this isn't an inconvenient time, however, I have come to take my home back." Bilba said cooly. Dís had to smirk at her use of "inconvenience" while evicting the hobbit.

"Your home?" Lobelia, scoffed. "The last I heard,  _your home_ , was on the fringes of Buckland. Bag End is mine, I am the Baggins under the hill now. You're not even a Baggins anymore and you're not welcome." Lobelia tried to slam the door, but Bilba pressed forward before either Thorin or Kíli could do it for her. She slammed a hand against the green door and edged her way in so that Lobelia could not close her out.

"Actually, Lobelia, according the Thain I am a Baggins once more. The Baggins of Bad End in fact, and you're now illegally inhabiting my home." Bilba said cooly.

"You're not the Baggins and certainly not the Mistress of Bag End! All you are is Mad Baggins, the same as years ago, and you're not welcome here!" Lobelia's face transitioned through a series of colors. Dís found it interesting to watch as the hobbit grew incensed.

"I'm afraid that you're wrong, Lobelia. To help you with your awareness of the facts and my claim, a letter from the Thain," Bilba replied coldly. Bilba offered the letter and Dís winced as Lobelia snatched it from her. The hobbit promptly shredded the paper, throwing it on the ground at Bilba's feet. The dwarrow around her tensed, and Fíli bristled, while Bilba looked down at the shredded pieces.

"I was worried you'd do that," Bilba said, shaking her head in disappointment. Then, she turned and eyed the trail of hobbits who had followed their group up the hill.

"Mr. Gamgee, it's wonderful to see you again. Can you come here and moderate?" Bilba asked sweetly. A very stout, round hobbit stepped forward, doing his best to straighten his spine.

"Good to see you too, Miss Bilba." he murmured, with a little bow to her, shooting a nervous glance at Thorin and Kíli. "What was it that you needed a hand with?" he added.

"Well, luckily, I have another copy of the letter from the Thain. It declares that I am both reinstated as the Baggins under the hill and it returns Bag End to me. I was fortunately paranoid enough to ask him to copy it out twice. Anyways, I'm wondering if you could read it out loud? Obviously, Lobelia doesn't seem interested, however, Bag End has been returned to me and I'd like to return." Bilba said with a smile, and Dís had to hide her own grin. This proved Bilba's rightness in her eyes. After all, assuming that all went well between Bilba and Thorin, Erebor had no idea what was coming their way. Bilba had a certain way about her, manners that cloaked demands and a keen sense for manipulation all bundled in her loyalty and compassion. Bilba would have the dwarrow of their kingdom wrapped around her pinky finger in a heartbeat.  _At least, assuming that they can overcome the fact that she's not a dwarf,_ Dís frowned. If there was a way to force her kinsmen into accepting Bilba and Raven she would do it but in truth, only time would tell.

* * *

Bilba had put on quite the show on the doorstep of Bag End. The hobbits had come quickly and in droves. Dís was sure that they could have rooted Lobelia out if needed. In the end, however, it was the social peer pressure that made the dislikable hobbit retreat. They could all hear her slamming around the hobbit hole, collecting her belongings. She had driven down the hill in a cart piled high. How she managed to pack that much, and if she was really entitled to it all, Dís was not sure. Bilba shouted after Lobeelia that they could speak about the division of personal belongings. Dís doubted that the other hobbit would dare to return.

With Bag End then successfully reclaimed, Bilba had welcomed them all inside. Waving to various friends and family who had arrived, she firmly closed the door on them. It was not nearly as small as Dís would have expected, and Bilba quickly saw to it that they all got their own rooms. Or, almost their own.

Dís and Thorin ended up sharing a room. Bilba and Raven were also sharing, as were Fíli and Gimli, Balin and Dwalin, and so forth. The Company didn't mind, used to being around each other and all were happy for the warmth and comfort. Blankets and pillows were found though there weren't quite enough mattresses. Bilba naturally apologized for the tightness and lack of proper beds. Dís ignored her after deciding that she couldn't get Bilba to stop apologizing. When she was finally free, she explored the cozy little hobbit hole. Although it was a mess from Lobelia's hasty departure, Dís was certain that their winter would be pleasant.

After their first night, Bag End was consumed by a flurry of activity. They stared with the cleaning. Then, furniture had to be bought or reclaimed and of course they needed groceries. In the middle of all of it, hobbits continually came knocking to welcome Bilba back. Dís was hopeful when the first visitor, Mr. Gamgee, arrived with a plat of cookies. Then he stayed for the next four hours. All the cookies disappeared along with tea and fresh-made cakes, and Dís decided that she was less impressed. All of the guests brought edible treats. However, it also became apparent that hobbit social calls entailed tea and cakes at least. If the unfortunate visit fell around any meal then an invitation to dine was expected.

Bilba quickly fell to pretending that she was unavailable, and to an extent it was true. They were all settling in, not to mention all the cooking in preparation for her Presentation. Bombur took over cooking for the Company, with Raven often volunteering to assist him. For the most part, however, the dwarrow had little to do, and while Bilba was so frantic, it made tensions run high.

Dís and the rest of the Company pretended not to notice the return of family heirlooms and trinkets. They were obviously important to Bilba judging by her reaction as they appeared. Nori's smiles made Dís wonder if their interim owners even knew that they had been "returned. Kíli and Tauriel were often found hiding out in their room or taking long walks. The rest of the Company camped out during the day in the living room, smoking, playing cards and such.

It took a whole three days before they started training in the back garden. Bilba quickly insisted, however, that they go down to the party field. They agreed and her garden became safe once more from any mishaps. Dís also joined in the training, feeling restless and cooped up.

It wasn't enough though and that was how she found herself walking through the market. She had a list from Bilba, however, found herself tarrying to look over the other wares. Of course there were plenty of whispers to dog her footsteps. Dwarrow women were rare, still, the whispers about her beard and the reproductive habits of dwarrow were trying. She did her best, however, to emulate Bilba and Raven. They both appeared to have infinite patience for the gossip. How they successfully maintained an unaffected and polite air was beyond Dís. She suspected it was a part of hobbit culture, but even if she didn't like it, she'd at least try to accept it.

Perusing the stalls, there was of course lots of food. Dís also noticed, however, that there were no small amount of wooden games, gardening tools, and simple fabrics in bright colours. Dís was about to finish her task and return to Bag End when her eye caught on something else. One stall, at the end of the market held musical instruments. Thorin had always been very good at the harp, but he had not brought it on the Quest, afraid to lose it. When he'd come here, he'd forgotten it in his haste. Given the tensions with the Blue Mountains, Dís doubted she'd get one from there either. Looking around the stall, there were no harps, to her disappointment. Given her interest, however, the hobbit vendor managed to sell her a guitar. She was unfamiliar with the instrument, but it was not overly expensive. Knowing the long hours, she hoped that Thorin could figure something out.  _Bilba will appreciate it too_ , she mused. The hobbit had admitted that hearing the dwarrow sing about Erebor had helped convince her that she was doing the right thing joining the quest. Dís didn't want to give Thorin an unfair advantage per say, but she wasn't about to let the two go their own ways either. Thorin might just need a little help to make sure that he didn't mess things up. Again. Plus, Dís herself had missed hearing him play and sing. At least, this way there might be some music to go along with the card games. On her way out, she picked up a chess set as well. If she had to deal with more poker tournaments as the only source of entertainment she was surely going to go mad.


	22. twenty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Winter Festival brings fulfilled wishes.

**AN:** Thank you so so much to everyone for the comments and kudos! I'm so sorry for the long pause between updates! I'm done now though with my undergrad and moved back home so, since the holidays are behind us, I'm hopeful that I'll get back to an update every week or two. Anyways, happy belated holidays to everyone and Happy New Year! See you all in 2018! Please let me know what you think :) It's a bit of a fluffy chapter to get us back into things, and then we'll turn focus back to Finnvari (remember him? ;p) and the stirrings in the Blue Mountains :)

* * *

_twenty-one_

Bilba

* * *

**_Bag End, Hobbiton_ **

**_13 December 2958_ **

"Oh but you must! No one else will do!" Bilba smiled politely at the group of hobbits. Made up of various her cousins and nieces, they were all insisting that she "host" the Winter Festival. The annual celebration was a way of giving thanks for the harvest and praying to Yavana for a short winter. Bilba had always loved the Winter Festival. When she was a girl, she remembered the anticipatory excitement that heralded winter. Although Bilba liked the event, hosting it was altogether overwhelming.

"I'm not sure," Bilba hedged, trying to come up with a better excuse.

Glancing down at her cup of tea she found herself longing to be back in her own sitting room. Once upon a time she'd looked forward to the Winter Festival. Before her family had died she might have once wanted to host it. Now, however, it seemed trivial and boring. All that Bilba longed for, indeed, was her little living room crowded with her dwarrow.

"But why not? You're the Baggins of Bag End now, it's only natural."

"Please, why won't you?"

"You'd be perfect!"

Bilba listened to the protestations and knew that she would have to cave.

"Very well, I suppose, if you insist." Bilba finally acquiesced politely, to her companions' delight.

Conversation ran quickly after that. Plans raced ahead while Bilba did her best to listen. Although she tried to muster enthusiasm for the plans, Bilba's attention strayed. It felt strange to be taking tea and discussing festivals as though nothing had happened. Hobbit memories, however, could be short when they wanted them to be. Bilba had been relatively well-liked before the Quest after all, if considered a bit odd. For now, as long as she behaved herself like a proper hobbit, Bilba found herself accepted back into the fold.

"And, of course Raven must be a part of the festivities!" It was as though the gathered hobbit women had read the turn of Bilba's own thoughts. Whenever Bilba went on social visits she found herself subjected to questions about her daughter's whereabouts.

"Where is she? I was hoping to see her," Bilba's current host, Mrs. Petunia Took asked. Petunia looked around, as though Raven would magically appear, and Bilba tried not to roll her eyes.

"She's spending time with her father." Bilba managed to say with a polite smile.

"Do they get along well, Auntie Bilba?" Petunia's daughter, Poppy, asked politely.

"Quite." Bilba replied honestly.

It was still strange at times to think of Raven as off with her father. Every time that Bilba saw the two together, however, it made her smile. Raven had taken to unabashedly pestering her father for stories and history lessons. Fíli remained Raven's go-to family member and her weapons trainer while Balin was her tutor. As soon as Raven mastered anything she was always racing to show Thorin what she had learned.

Back at the smial, Bilba had been Raven's everything. If she was being completely honest, Bilba did miss that closeness. In spite of her melancholy, however, Bilba would never wish for things to go back to how they used to be. Raven was happy now, spoiled and cared for; free finally to be a child as Bilba had always wanted her daughter to be. The amount of affection and attention that the dwarrow showered Raven with was after all everything that a mother could dream for.

"She takes after her father then?" it seemed that the ice had been broken in terms of the topic of Raven and the hobbits pressed for more answers.

"Yes, she's a perfect mix of the two of us, and since he's gotten the chance to get to know her they've become quite close." Bilba replied shortly.

She didn't like to speak about Raven, not to so many gossips at least. After all, the more that she bragged about Raven's accomplishments, the more her daughter's differences became apparent. Bilba loved Raven exactly as she was, but she knew that the other hobbits wouldn't appreciate her dwarrow tendencies.

"But he never came before because he didn't know about her?" Petunia demanded and Bilba hid a wince.

"Well, we were both in a battle and both injured. Thorin was led to believe that I had died. That's why he didn't come and, if any of you had been in the same situation then, I'm sure you would be much more considerate." Bilba snapped bluntly and silence fell in the dining room. She had not been quite so sharp with the truth before, but her patience was wearing thin. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have been so harsh, it's a touchy subject." she said, and then she delicately placed her cup to the side and rose. "I've overstayed my welcome, however, and if you want to find someone else to host the Winter Festival, I understand entirely. Good afternoon." Bilba quickly excused herself and fled.

* * *

All the way back up the hill to Bag End Bilba reprimanded herself for her bad manners, but she simply couldn't help it. If anyone dared say anything about Raven then it woke the mothering instincts in Bilba. She was still muttering, however, as she arrived at her house. The disastrous Winter Festival planning session still at the forefront of her thoughts, Bilba didn't notice the occupied front bench outside of her home.

"Bilba," she started as Thorin addressed her.

"Thorin!" she exclaimed, trying to hide her surprise.

"I didn't mean to startle you," he apologized.

"You didn't," Bilba hurried unconvincingly.

"How was the luncheon?" he asked.

"Tea," she corrected automatically, "was fine." she added.

"You don't sound very enthusiastic." Thorin noted, "would you care to join me?" he offered, sliding over on the bench, and Bilba nodded eagerly. The fact that they would be sitting there in plain view of everyone in Hobbiton didn't matter to Bilba. She longed to be close to Thorin, especially after her trying morning.

"Thanks," Bilba said softly as she sat down beside Thorin, his familiar scent rushing over her.

"Do you have a pipe?" he offered.

"I don't smoke anymore," Bilba replied and Thorin raised an eyebrow in question. "I didn't have much chance out at the smial, and I suppose since coming back I've realized I don't enjoy it quite so much anymore."

"Do you mind," Thorin gestured to his own pipe.

"No, of course not!" Bilba hastened to offer. "Actually, I kind of like the smell, it reminds me of y-" Bilba stopped herself quickly, "of our quest."

"Do you miss it?" Thorin asked softly.

"Well, yes," Bilba admitted.

"It wasn't particularly pleasant," Thorin frowned.

"You mean you weren't always particularly pleasant," Bilba chuckled.

"No, I wasn't, though I wasn't just referring to that." Thorin replied.

"You mean all the things that were trying to kill us then?" Bilba chuckled.

"Or eat us," Thorin agreed.

"Adventures all seemed a lot more fun from the comfort of my living room," Bilba reflected.

"I never really, properly, thanked you for what you did for our Company and especially for myself and the boys." Thorin said suddenly, and Bilba frowned.

"Thanked me?" she gaped, turning to look at him.

"Yes." Thorin said without hesitation and it was Bilba's turn to frown. "You always put us first. You would have sacrificed yourself for our sakes without a second thought for yourself."

"I only did what I did because, well," Bilba hesitated. She had acted because her own life seemed so unimportant compared to the three royals. Yet, if she spoke that conviction aloud then she was sure that Thorin would take exception to it.

"Fíli said he spoke to you about Ones." Thorin said, taking Bilba by surprise again.

"Well, y-yes." Bilba stammered.

"You are my One, Bilba. When I thought I lost you? It was the worst feeling. I wished that I had died. I woke up and I remembered what I had done to you and then Dwalin told me that they couldn't find you. I didn't want to live, not in a world without you." Thorin said softly. "So, if you ever dare say that your life isn't equal to mine? If you say that it will be better if you die in my place? It's not true. I was half the dwarf I should have been without you. You're my inspiration."

"Thorin," Bilba hesitated. "Everything that we did was to make sure that Erebor had her rightful King again. Even if I had been dead, you should have known better! I would gladly have died to give Erebor her rightful king. I would have expected you to be him with or without me at his side."

"I would give it all up for you." Thorin interrupted and Bilba felt her jaw drop. "If you would have me back but don't want to be queen then, I'll give up the throne. If you'd rather live here? Raise Raven here? Then I'll stay with you here in the Shire. I mean it, Bilba, you are my everything."

"Auntie Bilba!" Bilba was saved from having to answer as Poppy Took hurried up the lane. "Am I interrupting?" the young hobbit froze nervously.

"What is it, Poppy?" Bilba asked, shooting Thorin an apologetic glance as the hobbit stepped up to the gate.

"Well, I just wanted to say, my Ma sent me, and we would still be honored if you'd host the Winter Festival?" Poppy said nervously, her gaze darting more than once towards Thorin.

"Well," Bilba began to hedge.

"The Winter Festival?" Thorin interrupted. "What's this?" he asked gently, glancing curiously in Bilba's direction.

"You mean you don't know what the Winter Festival is?" Poppy's jaw dropped in shocked horror.

"I'm afraid not," Thorin admitted.

"But how is that possible? It's so important, and I thought you travelled with Auntie Bilba! Do you mean she didn't celebrate with you?" Bilba worried her lower lip. She was caught between amusement at Thorin's predicament and worry that he might be upset about her secrecy.  _Well, it wasn't really secrecy,_  Bilba reasoned,  _we simply didn't have a chance to really talk about our cultures._

With mild apprehension, Bilba listened to Poppy describe the feast. Bilba didn't miss how important Poppy made the role of host sound. Nor, the way that Thorin himself kept shooting her sidelong looks.

"Well, of course you must accept, Bilba," Thorin said softly, smiling encouragingly at her. "It sounds like quite the role of importance,"

"But it's a busy time what with Raven's schooling and making sure we're all fed-" Bilba tried to excuse herself.

"Nonsense," Thorin dismissed, and Bilba had half a mind to agree to whatever he asked when he used that tone of voice.  _No wonder he's such a good leader, such a good king now,_  she mused. "Fíli and Balin will make sure that Raven's studies are attended to, and I can help too, all of us will. Bombur can cook for us all and can help you too. He's a seated member of the culinary guild in Erebor, I'm sure he'd be happy to give you whatever assistance he can. It is an honor to host this feast, and it's a part of who you are." Thorin insisted.

"Then it sounds settled, Auntie Bilba!" Poppy agreed cheerfully, looking between the two with an all too knowing grin.

"Well, I suppose so then." Bilba agreed.

"I'll tell the others. Of course, all of your dwarves are invited too. We simply have to introduce them to hobbit parties! We'll put all other celebrations to shame." Poppy exclaimed half over her shoulder as she turned and raced down the hill back towards her mother's hole.

"I'm sorry," Bilba blurted.

"For what?" Thorin frowned slightly.

"Well, just, her-"

"Excitement?" Thorin interrupted and Bilba hesitated, feeling foolish. "I know, we never really got the chance to share each other's cultures. A lot of the time when you were with us you were studying our culture, but I regret that, Ghivashel." Thorin murmured, reaching out and cupping her chin.

"I wanted to learn about your culture though, it was so interesting." Bilba protested quietly, meeting his gaze and leaning into his touch. His face softened and she smiled shyly at him.

"But so is yours. We're here now, and we aren't just your guests, Bilba, you don't have to worry about us. We're a hardy bunch if you recall. I want this for you, a chance to be a part of your people, it's what Fíli and I wanted when we went to the Thain." Thorin reminded her gently. Unable to voice any other good argument Bilba settled for nodding. For a moment, she hoped that he would lean closer, that he would kiss her. Instead, he drew away and Bilba found herself soon shepherded inside.

* * *

If she ever thought that she could get away with hosting the Winter Festival without a lot of work she'd been wrong. Hobbits from all over the Shire would be in Hobbiton for the festival because theirs was, traditionally, the best feast. Furthermore, with Bilba in charge everyone wanted to know how she'd do. For those reasons, Bilba was determined to make sure it would be nothing less than perfect. She was in charge of coordinating all the food, guests, and presents and it was taking up every moment of her time.

She shuddered when she remembered bringing up presents with the dwarrow. Of course amongst hobbits gifts were simple and easy. Everyone loved presents and they were free flowing. In dwarrow society, however, presents were far more rare. Indeed, they were only given to special people at special occasions. The fact that presents were a part of the Winter Festival had made all the dwarrow go pale. Bilba did her best to ignore the fact that they'd each taken to disappearing during the day. She'd tried in vain to impress that, since it was a hobbit festival, they weren't expected to be a part of the gift giving. Thorin, surprisingly, had been at the forefront of the protestations, insisting that they take part in the festival.

Bilba had become too busy to keep arguing and that was the end of the matter. Raven too was excited. At the smial, Bilba and Primula had done their best to have little festivals. All they could afford, however, was to make a pie and exchange a few simple gifts. Wreaths of flowers in the summer and candies in the winter were the typical exchanges. This was the first time, however, Raven would have a proper festival and Bilba intended for it to be special. She had made several arrangements for gifts for her daughter. With a little consideration, she had begun purchasing things for the rest of the dwarrow as well. It was surprisingly easy to buy for them, she realized, having spent so long with them. Nothing was too big, just little tokens, mementoes of their friendship. The rest of the guards were harder to buy for. They had arrived in Hobbiton shortly after Bilba reclaimed Bag End. Since then, they had taken up rooms at the Green Dragon. Given their residency, the Inn was at constant capacity. The price, however, was fair and Thorin was paying with the coffers of Erebor. Bilba had tried to cover the fees, but he would hear naught of it and she'd reluctantly let that matter go too.

* * *

On the morning of the Winter Festival, Bilba had presents purchased and wrapped and a party fully planned and ready. She herself had made quite a few of the dishes with Bombur's help, using the dwarf's wealth of culinary knowledge. She'd accepted his help, and he had beamed with pride to be allowed to help her. At first, Bilba had been worried that he'd feel slighted helping her. Instead, he'd proved happy to give his assistance. Given their time working together on the quest, Bilba had found it easy and fun to spend her days with him.

Since Bombur's boys' arrival at Bag End, Raven had become more easily distracted. Often sneaking off with them instead of going to lessons, no one could quite bring themselves to scold her too much. Other hobbit children sometimes joined the trio, but they seemed wary. Luckily, neither Raven nor Bombur's sons really minded.

Stretching in her bed, Bilba dreaded having to having to get up and face her cold bedroom. Of course, the Shire winter was far more mild compared to farther east. Still, they had their fair share of frost and it was a cold morning which made Bilba want to stay abed. Finally, however, Bilba dragged herself from bed, quickly donning a day dress. It had been strange at first for many of the dwarrow, she thought, to see her in dresses.

The morning passed in a blur of good food and conversation. It was nice not to be interrupted by any other hobbits. No one came calling on Feast Days, all of the excitement saved for the party. Instead, they enjoyed a leisurely brunch and exchanged gifts. Bilba's gifts were all well received. From assorted books for Balin, Ori, Dori Oín, and Bombur to traditional hobbit toys for Bifur and Bofur. Bilba was pleased when her things were well-received. Surprisingly, the key to Bag End that she'd given Nori as a joke, was perhaps the most emotional. The warriors had been harder to buy for. She had bought a round of new pipes and pipeweed, however, and decided against getting any new weapons. For Thorin, she had embroidered a new tunic, though she was nervous as he opened it. Bilba and Raven both received various books about dwarrow culture and Khuzdul as well as an assortment of weapons. Bilba was happy with her gifts, each one was very unique to the dwarf who gave it to her. Each gift all made her smile, aware of the effort that had gone into everything. Raven too was over the moon with her gifts, and all the excitement was contagious. As the afternoon wore on towards three, Bilba reluctantly excused herself to go get ready.

* * *

Bilba spent quite a bit of time making herself look presentable by hobbit standards. When she emerged, she found that the dwarrow and Raven were all dressed in festive outfits. Many of the dwarrow she realized had re-done their braids for the occasion. It made her smile to realize the effort that they'd made in her honor. Thorin in particular caught her eye, and Bilba had to look quickly away to keep from tearing up. He was wearing the new tunic that she'd gifted him. The Durin blue cotton looked sharp with his telltale silver clasps in his hair as it clung to his physique. Bilba's breath caught in her throat at the sight. Quickly, she glanced over the other dwarrow. They too all looked sharp in colorful tunics that matched their family colors. There was not much more gold or jewelry, which Bilba knew was for her sake. Her dwarrow would never dare go to a party so unadorned amongst their own people. As she looked over them all and beamed, however, they bowed as one and she felt her cheeks warm as she waved them off.

"You look perfect!" she insisted with a curtsy of her own, and they beamed in reply.

"And me?" Raven interjected. Bilba's grin widened even further, if that was possible. Her daughter was beautiful. Raven's thick long locks were braided back from her face. Blue silk ribbons highlighted her dress. The only jewelry she wore were the traditional clasps. Her dress was in hobbit-style, though it was made in the Durin blue color. Bilba had in fact given it to her earlier.

* * *

Shortly thereafter, Bilba enlisted the Company to help bring various dishes down the hill to the party field. The space had been strung with hundreds of lit lanterns. Long trestle tables ringed the field for eating while a space at the centre for the bonfire was prepared. As the hostess, Bilba was in charge of overseeing the final preparations. In her opinion, things had come along quite nicely and, as the band started up, Bilba found herself smiling. It had been years since Bilba's last Winter Festival. As the music and familiar smells rushed over her, she was transported back to her own childhood.

"It looks wonderful," Thorin's deep voice stirred Bilba from her reverie and she turned to smile shyly at him.

Since their conversation when Bilba agreed to host the festival she'd pretended not to notice the rest of the Company giving them a wide berth. The truth, she suspected, was that they were doing their best to force her and Thorin together again. Of course they likely would have had to be blind to miss the looks that Bilba had exchanged with Thorin. Certainly, they'd been teasing them almost non-stop. This tactic, however, was nothing new. They'd done something similar while on the quest. By speaking less to Bilba and sending Thorin instead to talk to her, they had set up the two together. Seeing as it worked the first time, it seemed only natural for them to try it again. Privately, Bilba wanted to thank the rest of the Company, glad for Thorin's company, whether it was forced or not. Thorin himself though had been making an effort of his own as well. Bilba was careful to acknowledge, but not so much as to scare him off. Thorin after all wasn't a natural romantic, but he tried to do little things here and there. From experience, however, Bilba knew that if she made a fuss then, he'd retreat and she didn't want to drive him off.  _Almost as though he was a little faunt, not nearly a two hundred year-old king,_  Bilba mused.

"Thank you," Bilba said softly in reply to Thorin. "It brings back memories of my childhood. My Ma always used to love the festivals. She and Pa hosted them many times and this is just the way I remember them arranging things."

"I am glad to be able to share this with you." Thorin said softly, but before they could say any more hobbits began to arrive.

* * *

Each brought a family dish as well as presents. Bilba had been busy herself getting presents for all of her guests. Luckily, they were all well-received. Soon, the area was filled with happy chattering hobbits. As Bilba reveled in her early success, hobbits passed her with plates piled high. As the evening progressed, pipes were lit, drinks refilled and dancing began. When the sun set the festivities paused for the traditional lighting of the bonfire. Attention returned to Bilba who stepped forward with her written wishes for the new year. As the hostess she was to go first. After she had dropped the paper into the bonfire applause rose up for her. She stepped back with a shy smile. Only well-received hosts got such welcoming applause. Apparently, the hobbits had been glad for her efforts and Bilba couldn't help but feel proud. She stepped back, grinning as Raven went up after her.

After Raven, several other influential hobbits went up. Their wish-making was met with scattered applause before it became a free for all. Bilba couldn't help but notice the rest of the company going up too. The hobbits around them smiled approvingly and Bilba felt her heart swell. This was the true mix of her worlds and she wanted to remember this night forever. When Thorin dropped his own scrap of paper in Bilba fought a sudden longing to know what he'd wished for. Across the blaze he looked up, meeting her gaze and smiling slightly. Bilba looked away quickly, feeling as though she'd been caught. She wandered away from the party, suddenly feeling over-warm by the bonfire. Desiring a few moments to herself, she ducked behind the party tree.

"I'll tell you if you tell me," Thorin's soft whisper in her ear made Bilba jump in surprise. In her distraction, she hadn't noticed Thorin following her.

"What?" she gaped, "it's bad luck!" she tried to protest, while Thorin settled himself down beside her.

"I believe we make our own luck," Thorin countered. Bilba sighed but shook her head resolutely.

"We can't!"

"I'll tell you anyways," Thorin offered quietly, "I'd like to."

"Thorin!" Bilba protested, feeling foolishly worried for her lover. It wasn't as if this was a part of Thorin's traditions, but she was still worried.

"I wished that you would be happy, you and Raven both. I also wished that I might be able to be part of your life again." Thorin whispered, and Bilba swallowed, turning to face him cautiously. He took her hands in his and she looked up at him, meeting his brilliant blue gaze.

"I am happy, Thorin, I'm happy with you and with Raven. I know she is too. I've never seen her like this before, so free. I always wanted to give her a childhood, but until you came? I never would have been able to. That's not the only reason I want you to stay though. You make me happy, Thorin, having you back, I missed you." Bilba said quietly.

"Then, will you also accept a gift from me?" he asked softly and Bilba frowned. It was true, Thorin hadn't given her anything earlier in the day. She'd tried not to be hurt by it earlier, but she hadn't been expecting this either. She frowned slightly, and then registered his language.

"A winter festival present or another gift?" Bilba asked softly, searching Thorin's gaze.

"Well, I was working on it before I knew that Winter Festival was a time of gift-giving. I thought to give it to you today though because it feels right. If you are willing, however, I would like it to serve as a first official courting gift." Thorin sounded almost nervous as Bilba's heart pounded in her chest and her palms began to sweat. She opened her mouth to agree and found herself unable to speak so, instead she simply nodded.

Where Thorin had retrieved his gift from, Bilba was uncertain. Suddenly, however, he was handing her a wrapped parcel. She took it and carefully unwrapped it, aware of his gaze on her. Luckily, the lights that adorned the party tree wrapped around so she could see the exquisite piece of work in her lap. At first, Bilba though it was a delicate flower crown. Looking closer, however, she realized that although the diadem's backbone was made of mithril. Each flower blossom was exquisitely carved. The time and energy that Bilba realized Thorin must have taken to create it made Bilba's jaw drop. Looking more in depth at each flower, Bilba's eyes filled with tears as she registered their meanings. Back at Beorn's house, the bouquet that Thorin had offered her was filled with contradicting meanings. This crown, however, was a perfect blend of blooms showing Thorin's love, dedication, respect, and passion for her.

"Oh, Thorin," Bilba whispered, lifting it out and cradling it.

"I hope it doesn't offend, I asked Raven for help, and of course if you don't like it," Thorin mumbled nervously.

"I love it, and I would be honored to accept your courting gift." Bilba replied, cutting him off.

"Truly?" he asked, as though he couldn't believe that she was sincere.

"Truly." she promised, and then proffered the crown to him. "Crown me?" she asked when he frowned. "It's seen as bad luck to crown oneself."

"Well, if that's the case, I won't risk it. Crowning you would be my pleasure, my queen." Thorin replied solemnly, and then he stepped forward, setting the circlet on her head. She beamed up at him, and then, impulsively, drew his head down for a searing kiss.

* * *

Kíli was waiting for the blushing couple when they finally emerged from the backside of the tree.

"I see you accepted," he said with an impressively straight face.

"I did." Bilba couldn't help but smile as she stood by Thorin's side.

"The craftsmanship is quite well-done. You made it here, Uncle?" Kíli inquired.

"I did, with Raven and Primula's help in terms of which flowers I should use. They're made of gemstones and glass to get the exact hues right as well as the incandescence." Thorin explained though Bilba was fairly certain it was for her benefit. After all, Kíli likely would have recognized the components. Though, that was assuming he hadn't already asked. After all, as Bilba's standing family member, Thorin would have had to present it to him first.

"And you agree that he has caused no offense in his selection of flowers? That the craftsmanship is worthy of his intent? Of your relationship?" Kíli asked Bilba.

"I do." she replied. Bilba knew that she had no real eye for the craftsmanship. Still, the piece did take her breath away and the flowers made her sure that Thorin had done ample research.

"Then, may your courtship be a happy one," Kíli said, and then he stepped forward and kissed her cheek. "I'll be happy to call you  _Irak'Amad_ * again." he added in a whisper, and Bilba smiled.

* * *

Kíli was only the first of the Company to congratulate her on her courtship. As soon as she and Thorin returned to the party the Company had been quick to descend. They all hugged Bilba and gently tapped their foreheads together. Thorin, however, was met with a mixture of cautious congratulations and quiet threats. Many hobbits also came up to compliment her on the crown. None of them, however, seemed certain about whether or not it was a courting gift. Of course, every hobbit knew the flower types and they plainly showed that it was. The unusual arrangement and use of carved flowers on the other hand seemed to throw them. The dwarrow continued to celebrate openly. As the evening continued, wherever Bilba went Thorin remained stubbornly at her side. Raven, when she'd noticed her parents together and Bilba's gift had run over. Grinning broadly, Raven had hugged Bilba.

"It looks so beautiful, Ma! I knew that it would!" she beamed while Bilba hugged their daughter.

"I hear I have you to thank for it." Bilba replied with a smile.

"And Aunt Primula!" Raven said, though her face fell a little. Primula had decided to remain with her family in Buckland for the season. Although Bilba missed her cousin, it was Raven who was most disappointed. Bilba knew that she could hardly begrudge Primula the chance to be with her family again after so long. Still, it would have been nice to have her with them.

The rest of the feast was a blur of food, drinks, and even dancing with Thorin. He did not dance in the hobbit fashion, but Bilba didn't mind. Mid-way through the evening, several members of the Company had commandeered the band's instruments. Although strange to them, and they had taken quickly to the instruments. They played a song that Thorin obviously knew and he led Bilba around the clearing. She was aware of the many eyes of her hobbit relatives on their forms, however, Bilba couldn't bring herself to care. She was happy where she was: in Thorin's arms. It felt right to her and the smile on her face never dimmed. Thorin similarly never once stopped smiling at her either. It was, Bilba thought, the best Winter Festival she'd ever had.

* * *

**AN:** * _Irak'Amad_  =  _Aunt_ : I'm not 100% sure of this translation. I saw  _Irak'Adad_  was uncle, so I made an assumption... If anyone knows that "aunt" is something else though, I'm happy to fix it! :)


	23. twenty-two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New Years in Hobbiton isn't as quiet as Thorin hopes.

**_AN:_** Thank you everyone for reading, leaving kudos and commenting! :) Here's another chapter and we're moving ahead to a new little plot arc that I'm pretty excited about. :) Let me know what you think and Happy 2018! :D

* * *

 

_twenty-two_

Thorin

* * *

_**Bag End, Hobbiton** _

_**31 December 2958** _

In Erebor, bringing in the New Year always meant lots of pomp and elaborate celebrations. Thorin had always been obligated to make an appearance. He would dress in elaborately bejeweled robes, eat more than he could stomach, smile and laugh. In truth, however, since the Battle of Five Armies, he had loathed the celebrations. This year, however, it was different. This year, he had Bilba and Raven. Better yet, according to hobbit traditions, New Years was a holiday to be spent with family. Bilba had therefore managed to secure Bag End only for the dwarrow. The Company were all getting ready and the guards staying at the Green Dragon would come up to join them. It was the first time since leaving the smial that it would be only them, and Thorin looked forward to it.

Standing in his guest room before the mirror, Thorin eyed his appearance. He was wearing the blue shirt that Bilba had given him for the Winter Festival. It had quickly become his favorite; the cotton was soft, the embroidery done with care. Still, after the usual pomp of Ereborian celebrations he felt strangely under dressed.

"Thorin?" he sighed in relief as he heard Dís's familiar voice. "Nadad?" Dís pushed the door open and Thorin met her graze through the mirror.

"Well, you certainly look handsome," she said, but entered and closed the door anyways.

"But?" he growled.

"Well, there is an equally nervous hobbit down the hall from you. I'm here to make sure that you drive her just as crazy as she's going to make you." Dís smirked and Thorin did his best to glare balefully at her. In reality, he was fairly certain it came across more as a look of desperation.

"What's wrong with this?" Thorin grumbled as Dís approached him.

"Some things never change, Nadad." Dís retorted. "So, Kíli is on high alert for tonight." she said as she began to brush out his hair.

"Afraid that I'll do something inappropriate with Bilba?" Thorin scoffed, though inwardly he did his best to quell his desire to do just that.

"You two are courting officially now," Dís replied with a smile while Thorin held back a growl. Trust his sister to reiterate the obvious. "That infuriating?" Dís asked, and Thorin had the sinking suspicion that his growl hadn't been as silent as he thought.

* * *

 

Officially courting Bilba Belladonna Baggins was both the best and the worst thing that Thorin had ever done. Making her first courting gift, Thorin had been wracked with nerves. What if she didn't like it? What if she wasn't ready? The days leading up to the Winter Festival had been understandably stressful. Thorin had found himself consumed with nerves, working and re-working her gift. After all, how could any material object ever be perfect enough to present to his burglar?

Bilba Baggins was his Queen, the mother of his perfect daughter and his One. And, that was not to mention everything that she'd already done to prove her worth. Throughout their courtship, Thorin had always felt that he didn't deserve her. Certainly during the early days of the Quest he had not been the first dwarf to notice her charms. Of course back then he had been single-mindedly determined to reach the Mountain. That had led him to mistakenly believe that she would come between him and his goal. Luckily for him, potential sparks with any other member of the Company were long since gone. In those early days, however, Bilba'd had her choice of any of them and things might have gone far differently. For some reason, in spite of his infernal attitude, however, she'd gravitated to him. For that, Thorin could never forget how lucky he was since hobbits didn't have Ones the way dwarrow did.

Adhering to tradition, Thorin had done his best to craft his dedication and respect for her into his gift. In spite of his self-doubts, however, even he had to admit that the flower crown had become a work of pure talent. Never before had he labored so extensively over any one piece. He had simply refused to rest until each flower was perfect. After arriving in Hobbiton, he had been determined to find a forge with which to bring his idea to fruition. It hadn't been hard; there was only one forge in the town after all. Getting in hadn't been easy at first because the smith was worried that Thorin would steal his business. Thorin had been at his wits end, promising to teach him and to help lighten the hobbit's workload. In the end, however, it had been his confession that he was working on a courting gift that softened the hobbit.

Apparently, courting gifts were a universal thing. The smith, Sardoc, and his wife, Lily, had taken to visiting the forge and offering their own suggestions. They had marveled over Thorin's skill and, at his insistence, offered critique of each blossom. Thorin himself refused to add any bloom to the circlet until it was absolutely perfect. By the time the crown was completed, Lily was stopping by the forge with snacks for Thorin while Sardoc was openly watching him work. To his great surprise, neither of the hobbits' presence bothered Thorin. Once upon a time, he would have run them off, keeping the secrets of his trade and technique a family-only secret. Life in Hobbiton, however, was gradually changing him.

When Bilba had accepted his offering, Thorin had been overjoyed. Kissing her again by the party tree had been a dream come true. Once the Company finished congratulating them, they were promptly banned from being alone. It was not, after all, proper for any courting couple to be alone without official supervision. Kíli had, in particular, been stubborn about adhering to all of the proper traditions. As a result, Thorin had barely been able to have a conversation with Bilba, let alone to kiss her again.

* * *

 

"Nadad?" Dís repeated again, and Thorin realized that he had been staring blankly at the looking glass. Dís, apparently, had left him to his ruminations. In the meanwhile, however, she had redone his braids. He had not brought much with him in terms of formal attire. Dís had nevertheless produced the strands of silver with tanzanite stones that he usually wore in his hair for formal events. If he hadn't been so lost in his own thoughts, he might have protested their use. Seeing the end result, however, Thorin had to admit that he liked the jeweled addition. Alone, without the crown, belts, and other ornate robes he appreciated the jewels far more. The fact that the tanzanite matched his shirt and was the perfect Durin blue also made him smile.

"Thank you," he murmured quietly, reaching up and catching his sister's hand. Through the mirror, Dís smiled back at him and then leaned down and kissed his cheek.

"You two really are perfect for each other, and this time we'll make sure that everything goes right." Dís promised and then she stood and left the room.

"Namadith," she paused as he called after her, "you look wonderful tonight as well." Dís paused at his compliment, and then smiled.

She wore a dark blue dress and he could see strands of silver braided through her own dark locks. As always, Dís's ensemble made her strikingly beautiful. Looking at her Thorin wondered, not for the first time, how lonely she was. He understood the pain of losing your One. Yet, he sometimes entertained the idea of finding someone to give Dís company at least. She had been alone after all for over a century. Still, he doubted she would ever admit to anything as weak as loneliness.

"Thank you, Nadad." she murmured and then departed.

Alone, Thorin stood and eyed himself in the looking glass. With his hair done, he had to admit that he did cut a rather striking figure. Inwardly, he could only hope that Bilba would approve. He knew that she hated fancy after all, she was a hobbit, but surely this wasn't too much.

* * *

 

Steeling himself, Thorin joined the rest of the emerging dwarrow in the dinning room. He felt foolishly nervous exiting his room. He was not, after all, some green lad, but a king for Mahal's sake. Still, the anticipation of seeing Bilba and his longing to please her changed everything. The other dwarrow were dressed nicely, but without the usual gold and jewels. It was nice for Thorin to see them thus, not buried under their won wealth. It seemed too that the time away from Erebor had renewed all of their friendships. Thus far, Dwalin, Balin, and Oin had emerged, however, most of the Company was still absent. They milled about, waiting almost awkwardly for more of the Company to arrive. Thorin was midway through a tankard of ale when Bilba finally made her appearance and he froze. True to Dís's word, she was quite the sight. She wore a new dress, though immediately Thorin felt a smile forming on his face as he realized what she'd done. It was a red dress in hobbit fashion in the same color, perhaps even the same material, as her red coat from their quest. Bilba's hair was also braided back, similar to how she'd once worn it. For a fleeting moment, taking it all in, Thorin almost felt as though the past sixteen years hadn't happened.

"Bilba," he drew away from his companions and, although they didn't follow, neither did they leave.

"Thorin," her face flushed as he came to a stop within arm's reach of him.

"You look-"

"Ridiculous? I should haven't-" Bilba interrupted him and, desperate to stop her self deprecation, he put a hand on her shoulder. The chatter behind them quieted. Obviously the Company were watching them sharply.

"Let me finish, Bilba," Thorin said softly, refusing to drop her arm in spite of the peer pressure. They had enough chaperones and it was a holiday after all.

"Sorry," Bilba muttered sheepishly, and Thorin couldn't help but smile.

"Stop that, please," he implored, catching her eye as they shared a smile. Apparently, he wasn't the only one who remembered how many times they'd had the same exchange before. "Bilba, what I was going to say," he began again, "is that you look radiant. I always loved this color on you, all those years ago, and it brings back a lot of good memories."

"Good memories?" Bilba teased, her voice filled with skepticism, and Thorin couldn't help but laugh.

"Mostly good memories," he clarified and she glared up at him. "Fine, selective memories, does that satisfy you Ghivashel?"

"Better, my stubborn dwarf." she replied, her eyes sparkling. Thorin had to fight hard not to lean down and kiss her.

"Were they always like this?" he heard Raven whisper theatrically. Thorin found himself smiling in spite of himself. As he heard several other snorts of amusement, he felt glad that the others couldn't see.

"I suppose we have been," he whispered to Bilba.

"You mean when we weren't busy tearing each others' throats out?" Bilba amended and Thorin laughed softly.

"Fair enough," he agreed.

"This? This is nothing, most of the time they were much worse." he overheard Kíli stage whisper back to Raven.

"Not that you're one to talk now either!" Fíli protested and Thorin sighed as he heard a scuffle break out.

"Enough!" he growled, spinning away from Bilba to glower at his two nephews. Incidentally, they looked quite pleased at being caught and diverting Thorin's attention. With a sudden rush of nostalgia, Thorin charged towards his nephews. Realizing their imminent peril, the boys took off. Behind him Thorin could hear Bilba protesting though he could tell that she too was amused.

He tackled Fíli and Kíli in the front hall, rolling around the floor as though the boys were still young lads. It was over relatively fast. Thorin's experience allowing him to use the brothers' enthusiasm against each other. Instead of being subdued, however, Fíli and Kíli quickly jumped up and led him back to the party. Upon their arrival, Thorin was not at all surprised to see the Company exchanging gold. Lívói, Elsba, Baldur and Elsbur on the other hand stared at the three of them in disbelief. Of course Gimli had seen them roughhousing before, but it was not an act he usually engaged in. Under their scrutiny, Thorin felt chagrined by the childish display. Furthermore, from the look on Lívói's and Elsba's faces he would not be living this down any time soon. The only luck that Thorin had was that the guards had not arrived yet. If they'd also been present then he doubted that many of them would still show him any respect.

"Do they usually do that?" Thorin heard Raven asking Bilba while he eyed the room sheepishly.

"It's not uncommon, Lassie." Dwalin replied with a gruff snort of amusement.

"But only in private," Balin interjected with a warning glance at his brother. Raven on the other hand continued to stare at them with new interest. Behind her daughter, Bilba shot Thorin a warning glance. It was a wonder how easily she could silently threaten him. Thorin had no doubt that she would exact some manner of bodily harm if he dared corrupt their daughter any more. Thorin in turn, motioned with his head to his daughter, who scampered into his waiting embrace.

"Balin is right, how Fíli, Kíli and I act around you is not the kind of behavior to be parroted in public. Everyone here is family, and we are able to act less formally because of it." Thorin explained quietly. Bilba watched him approvingly as he tried to temper his already-wild daughter.

After all, Raven had already taken to weapons training like a fish to water. For Bilba's sake Thorin tried to temper her enthusiasm. At least, when they were around Bag End or other hobbits. In all honesty though, he couldn't be prouder of her skills. Certainly, she would be as formidable a fighter as any dwarowdam. Privately, he hoped that Dís would teach his daughter more about the subtleties of fighting. If sprung against him, Fíli, Kíli or the other members of the Company would, in all likelihood, fall to Dís's attack. An often unexpected foe, Dís surpassed Fíli's ability to conceal weapons. Thorin suspected that in all likelihood she had taught him herself. She might even give Nori a run for his money if the two were put in competition. Of course in a full-out battle she was still lethal, but her true strength was in the swift surprise attack. Thorin knew that Raven would always be protected so long as she was the Princess of Erebor, however, he was no fool. Even the best guards would not always be around and Thorin would rather be bald than allow his daughter to be defenseless.

"But if we're all family-" Raven interrupted his musings. Thorin reached down, tickling her sides and interrupting her musings. She let out a squeal of laughter, crying out to her cousins for help.

* * *

 

Total chaos quickly erupted in Bag End. The result was a full tickle war between the younger dwarrow and the elder warriors. It was even complete with hiding spots, attacks, and makeshift weapons. Bilba herself had laughed and retreated to the kitchen to see about their dinner. Bombur, Oín, and Lívói quickly opted to joined her. The rest of the Company, however, fell prey to the infectious enthusiasm of the youngsters.

Thorin kept a sharp eye out, rescuing more than one of Bilba's belongings from danger. In the midst of his search for Raven, however, he was unsurprised to stumble upon Kíli and Tauriel. They had snuck into one of Bilba's lesser-used pantries. He left the couple to their own devices. Then he had stumbled upon Dwalin and Ori in a quiet, if intense, debate. That exchange left him considerably more confused. He had been about to interrupt it, worried for the gentle scribe's well-being, but Nori dragged him away.

"Leave them," Nori grumbled, not looking exactly pleased, but not surprised either. Thorin felt a rush of shock as he recalled the proximity between the two dwarrow.

"Are they-"

"Aye," Nori confirmed his dawning suspicions. Thorin departed again, his mind spinning as he considered the implications.

It unsettled him to realize that he'd been so unobservant. It wasn't like him, especially when his best friend was involved. Then again, he and Dwalin had been drifting apart. During the quest he would have sworn that nothing could ever come between them. Dwalin's protective streak had been a league wide though when it came to Bilba. Part of Thorin thus suspected that the warrior had never fully forgiven him for what he had done to Bilba. Not that Thorin could blame him. They had mended their friendship, moving on together in grief over Bilba's death. Then, they hadn't been able to do anything to bring her back. Since arriving back in the Shire, however, there had been a tenseness between them again. The distance, Thorin had no doubt, had to do with Dwalin's protectiveness of Bilba and Raven. If Thorin took even one step in the wrong direction then he was sure that he'd have to answer to Dwalin. Of course his best friend hadn't openly challenged him as Kíli had, but the implication was there. Regardless of their increased distance, Thorin was shocked by his discovery. He knew that Dwalin liked his privacy, but courtships were a big deal. He wished that Dwalin had trusted him enough to confide in. The fact that he hadn't stung. What was worse, he could only blame himself for their distant relationship.

* * *

Thorin was trudging across the main entrance when the frantic knock sounded. He frowned, and then answered the door on impulse. This was a family night, but it might only be the invited guards. True to Thorin's reasoning, the caller was a dwarf.

"Dolgin," Thorin recognized the bowing brunette dwarf as a captain of the guard.

"My King," Dolgin greeted him, straightening and Thorin went rigid. The usually unflappable dwarf was ashen.

"What's wrong?" Thorin demanded, his previous gaiety gone.

"One of my guards has been attacked. At the Green Dragon, he said that his attacker left him a message that he was to repeat only to you. I am worried about his chances of survival." Dolgin replied while Thorin was aware of the hall filling behind him.

"Attacked? How badly? By what? When?" Dwalin grumbled on the alert, and Thorin felt reassured, knowing that his friend was at his back.

"We just found him. He was out on patrol alone. He said it was a dwarf." Dolgin admitted.

"And the message, it was for Thorin specifically?" Dís interjected while Thorin retreated back towards his bedroom where Orcist lay.

"Aye, for the King Under the Mountain." Dolgin nodded, his words remaining cryptic.

As he retreated, Thorin was aware that he was not the only dwarf going for his weapons. In what had seemed to be the safety of Hobbiton, they had taken to not carrying their weapons with them. Now, it seemed as though they'd been reckless in their assumed safety.

As Thorin disappeared down the hall, he caught sight of Raven. She was trailed by Bombur's two young sons. Whatever else Dolgin had to report, Thorin hoped he'd remember the young ears present.

Remembering Raven's youth, a rush of cold fear shot down the length of Thorin's spine. Someone had attacked one of his guards in the Shire. Someone not a five minute walk from where his One and his daughter resided. Weaponless.  _What if they had come here instead? What if they had gone after Bilba or Raven?_  Only a moment ago he had been searching for his daughter in play. If Raven had run outside in the midst of their game then, she could have fallen prey to his unknown enemy. Furthermore, Bilba's safety had already been compromised. Thorin hoped that they would have the decency to leave his young daughter out of their schemes. They were still dwarrow after all, surely they wouldn't dare lay a hand on a princess of Durin?  _Would they?_  he feared.

He ran a hand over his face for a moment, forcing his attention away from his fears and back to the present. Right now, the best he could do was to go down, speak to the injured dwarf and prepare accordingly.

"Thorin," through the mirror he caught sight of Bilba standing in the doorway. Her face was pale though her eyes were bright and suspicious. "I'm coming with you." she insisted softly. Thorin paused mid-way through strapping Orcrist to his back sheath.

"No!" he growled, spinning to face her. Bilba frowned, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared defiantly at him. "Bilba, Ghivashel, please l need you to stay here, with Raven." he deftly finished securing Orcrist before he walked over to her.

"I thought I was your Queen, Thorin," Bilba warned and he sighed.

"You are,"

"So why leave me here? If I really am your Queen then a threat against you is a threat against me! I can defend myself, Thorin-"

"Yes, you can!" he exploded. "You can take care of yourself. I know that, Bilba. I do trust you. But, Ghivashel, this is why I need you to stay here. I need you to look after Raven."

"Raven," Bilba deflated in front of him and he sighed.

"A threat against us is a threat against her as well. We will handle this. I'm not cutting you out. I need you at my side Ghivashel, but our daughter needs you more." Thorin said softly.

"Fine. This time I'll stay, Thorin. But, the next time a threat is made? I go and you stay." Bilba replied and silently marched out of the room. Thorin sighed, fighting the urge to follow after her. He doubted that he next time he'd want to send her off, but she had a point.

* * *

 

"Let's go," Thorin growled as he emerged from his room, rejoining the group. The other dwarrow had all returned armed as well. Though Bilba and Elsba had apparently whisked the children away.

"Dolgin took Oín ahead and Glóin insisted on accompanying his brother." Dwalin stepped forward, once more firmly back in his role as the head of Thorin's guard.

"Good. How bad off is the guard?" Thorin demanded.

"Dolgin was glad to to have Oín rush down there and told us not to take our time." Dwalin replied grimly.  _Why does this happen now?_ Thorin cursed the universe.

"Come," Thorin ordered instead. Looking over the assembled dwarrow Thorin nodded to Dori, Bifur, Kíli, and Tauriel to follow him. The rest he motioned to remain behind. "Fíli, you'll stay behind as well with Dís. Kíli and I will be exposed enough as is and it seems that this attack was on our family." he insisted.

"Uncle," Fíli protested quietly, but when Thorin glared at him he stepped back with a nod of acceptance.

Allowing both himself and his heir to walk into a potential trap was foolish. Whatever the trouble was, his line was being targeted. He would do everything that he could to ensure that his family was protected.

"I'll be back as soon as I can. Stay here, lock the doors, and shutter the windows if you can." Thorin ordered Fíli, who nodded.

"I promise, Uncle, they'll be safe." Fíli nodded and Thorin was reminded once again of how much his heir had grown up.

"Thank you." he murmured and then turned on his heel, trying to quell his disappointment about the ruined New Year's Eve.

* * *

 

Walking down to the Green Dragon, all Thorin could think about was the safety of his family. There had once been a time, before the quest, when he had gladly rushed in to danger. Then, the quiet ways of the Shire would have driven him crazy. In the recent weeks, however, he'd come to enjoy the peace and security. Facing the dangers of his lifestyle, Thorin realized with a cold shock that he was the one tainting Raven. As his daughter, Bilba was right, a threat to him became a threat to her. Given his new revelation, the world suddenly seemed far more foreboding. Certainly, Thorin allowed her to train in weapons. He never intended, however, to let Raven fight. Nor had he thought to be responsible for putting her in dangerous situation.

They arrived outside of the inn to find it in chaos. The drama had drawn curious hobbits, many of whom were milling around outside of the Green Dragon. As Thorin approached, he could hear his name whispered. Glancing sideways at Dwalin, his friend shrugged in response.

"They're hobbits," Dwalin grumbled, too quiet for their observers to hear.

"Dori, Kíli, and Tauriel, do what you can to assure them that it's safe. We'll protect them." Thorin ordered, feeling oddly reluctant to take charge of the situation. After all, he was a king of dwarrow, not hobbits. Still, the danger that they faced was all his own doing. The three said nothing, disappearing instead into the crowd. Entering the inn properly, Thorin found himself mobbed once more. This time, it was the guards that Fíli had brought. Following the sound of Oín's shouts, he navigated through the crowded room. Coming to stand over the injured dwarf, Thorin took in the scene. Oín was shouting over a younger brunette dwarf who, Thorin remembered, was the healer who Fíli had brought with him.

"What's happening? Why are the two of your arguing while a dwarf bleeds out?" Thorin roared, his patience waning while both healers paused to look at him guiltily. Thorin kept glaring until they jumped into action. Whatever disagreement they were having forgotten as they refocused on the unconscious dwarf. Looking over the figure, Thorin noted that he'd been shot twice. At least, the arrows that had been removed. Further bruising on his face indicated that the guard had suffered further. Thorin was no medic, but he could tell from the perusal that the arrow wounds were grievous. What was more, combined with the beating, he feared that the dwarf might not wake again.

Once he was satisfied with the healers' progress, Thorin glared around at the rest of the group. "I want everyone out! I expect two patrols sent out at once to try and find the culprit. Also I want one team of guards to report up to Bag End for added protection." the dwarrow jumped to attention and, a matter of moments later, they were all but alone in the room. Thorin sighed, his fingers itching for Orcrist's hilt. Instead, he remained trapped in the room, waiting to speak to a dying dwarf.

* * *

 

It was almost three quarters of an hour later when the healers finished. Both Oín and the younger healer, Sórin, looked exhausted. The injured dwarf, Heptin, remained unconscious. The two healers' faces were grim, and when Thorin caught Oín's eye the elder dwarf shook his head. Sórin, however, glared and stubbornly began whispering about alternative treatment options. Another half an hour passed, the two healers bickering. Thorin continued to glare around the space while they all waited for Hepting to wake. Thorin's patience was paper thin by the end of it, but he knew better than to try to cross Oín again.

The healer had become even more unmovable in his age. Oín was known for fighting with anyone who dared to propose a different treatment plan. However, there was also no denying the fact that he was still incredibly skilled at his trade. Each time that a complaint was made against Oín, Thorin found himself able to honestly defend his friend. Every refusal to release him from his oaths backed by the fact that his skills were not impaired.

* * *

It was nearing midnight when Heptin finally stirred, breaking Thorin from his reverie. He stood and moved closer to Heptin. The dwarf's eyes opened, his glossy gaze drifting over the room before it finally focused on Thorin. He reached out and with surprising strength grasped Thorin's hand in his. Thorin in turn did not hesitate to clasp Heptin's hand in his.

"He said to warn you, the Blue Mountains will not suffer an  _ûdar_ to live, not when she has bewitched a weak-minded King." Heptin rasped, obviously desperate to pass on his message.

"And those were his exact words?" Dwalin demanded, though his voice was gentle, not demanding nor desperate.

"Aye, Captain." Heptin whispered, coughing and choking on blood-stained spittle.

Thorin moved without hesitation. Lifting Heptin, he let the injured dwarf's torso rest against his chest. Heptin's breathing eased and Thorin felt a small rush of relief, even if he could not do much more.

"Thank you, for delivering your message, Heptin." Thorin murmured, "I only wish that the cost of its delivery was not so high." Heptin managed a smile.

"I never thought to die in the arms of a king," he returned and Thorin felt his stomach churn with guilt.

This was the worst part of being a warrior. Heptin was far from the first dwarf he'd ever seen die, but such ends were never easy. Thorin placed a palm on Heptin's brow, whispering the traditional prayer for a dying brother in arms. It was both a thank you for Heptin's sacrifice and a blessing for him to take to the Halls of Mandos. Heptin nodded in faint acknowledgement of the blessing. Then, the room quieted as they all waited until Heptin's raspy breath was no more. Thorin eased the dwarf back down onto the table, laying him to rest in a dignified pose. In the quiet room, Sórin turned on his heel and abruptly left, the door closing with a sharp note of finality. Inwardly, Thorin wondered if Heptin was the first patient that he'd lost. The healer had seemed young after all, and knowing that the end was coming was never easy.

"We'll bury him as we would any fallen warrior away from home. Call back the rest of the guard. We have no leads. We can only attend to our dead and remain attentive. Tomorrow, we will make plans and talk about the Blue Mountains." Thorin announced as the clock began to chime midnight. No one said anything, exchanged any words, or even moved until the last stroke had faded to silence. Then, Thorin turned and exited as well. He caught sight of Kíli and Tauriel kissing in the shadows of the Green Dragon. Luckily, the rest of the hobbits had since disappeared.

Feeling the sudden urge to have his Bilba in his arms and to know that their daughter was safe, Thorin took off at a run. He burst through the door at Bag End, and as soon as he caught sight of Bilba had her wrapped in his arms.

"Thorin!" she exclaimed in surprise and concern, only to have him silence her with a sound kiss.

"I'm sorry I wasn't with you all night," he whispered, "I wanted nothing more."

"It's alright, but please, tell me what happened? Whose blood are you covered in?" her eyes were wide. With a pang of regret Thorin realized that the shirt she'd made him was indeed stained with Heptin's blood.

"We lost a member of the guard, Heptin." Thorin replied. "His injuries were too grievous." Bilba put a hand to her mouth, her gaze sorrowful.

"But you'll find whoever took him, won't you Adad?" Thorin turned to see Raven standing in the doorway. Bilba made a move, as though to shepherd her daughter away, but then seemed to think better of it. Instead, Thorin held out a hand to Raven, and she ran towards them.

"I will, I promise. I will avenge him and I will protect the both of you." Thorin said, kissing the top of her head. "I'm sorry that I ruined the New Year-"

"Oh don't be silly," Bilba interrupted. "You didn't orchestrate any of this. We're just glad that you've come home. The rest of the Company and the guard should come here tonight. We'll all feel better for being together, we can camp out." she insisted and Thorin drew back from the hug to catch her eye and offer her a thankful smile. Bilba in turn moved up onto her tip toes to kiss his cheek. "Whatever is coming, Thorin, we'll face it together and whatever it is can't be worse than what we've already conquered."

* * *

_* ûdar_  Wizard in Khuzdul


	24. twenty-three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli faces new challenges.

**AN:**  Thank you everyone for the continued support! So sorry about how long it's taken me to post this! Life got surprisingly busy surprisingly fast with work! I'll try to be better, I'm certainly still excited about where this is going! :) Please let me know what you think! Another new story arc I'm excited for! :) 

* * *

 

_twenty-three_

Fíli

* * *

**_Past the East-Hedge_ **

**_3 January 2959_ **

Fíli watched Thorin, Balin, and Oín perform the last rites. The ceremony reminded him of the mass graves after the Battle of Five armies. In those days the burials had become strangely commonplace. Now, Heptin's farewell was a sobering reminder that death was not so impossible for any of them. Fíli had hand-selected the dwarrow before, and each of his warriors was talented. He would have trusted any of them with his life. Heptin wasn't dead because of his own mistake but, simply, because he had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If circumstances had been different then it might have been Fíli or, worse, Kíli in place of Heptin.

Fíli glanced towards his younger brother. Kíli stood beside him in the ring, Tauriel at his little brother's side. Although the she-elf towered over all of them in terms of her height, she remained a quiet presence. The she-elf held Kíli's hand tightly in hers and, for a moment her piercing gaze met Fíli's. He never had problems with his sister-in-law, but in the moment Fíli knew that they were united in their fear.  _What if it was Kíli that they were farewelling?_  it was a fear that tore at Fíli. He had almost lost Kíli multiple times on the Quest. It was, however, only after the Battle of Five Armies that they had realized their own mortality. As though his little brother had read his mind, Kíli looked up in Fíli's direction. Kíli's eyes narrowed in a knowing suspicion and then he offered Fíli a small reassuring smile.

From the site of the cairn-to-be, Thorin's low baritone filled the clearing. Fíli took a steadying breath himself before adding to the mournful song. It was a warrior's farewell. The hymn to the dead simultaneously acted as a working song and each dwarf moved forward. Together, they used their strength to erect Heptin's final resting place.

When Fíli finally stepped back he knew that his cheeks were wet with tears of remembrance. He felt no shame, however, as he recognized the looks of grief on his other companions' faces. Heptin had been a good warrior and a loyal companion, but it wasn't just him that they grieved for. The rushed burial was a harsh reminder of the losses that they'd already faced. Heptin was simply one of many friends and comrades who they had been forced to give up.

They lingered by the gravesite out of respect. Fíli silently endured the increasing wind in a silent penance. Looking around at their miserable little group, Fíli recognized the shared guilt. Since the Fall of Erebor the dwarrow had prided themselves in their support of each other. They were homeless and penniless, but they'd always had each other.

Two figures caught Fíli's eye. Bilba and Raven stood huddled together. Although they were not on the edge of the group they remained separate from the grieving dwarrow. Fíli was struck, however, by the looks of wide-eyed grief on both faces. It was true, Bilba had been in the Battle of Five Armies. She had seen the ruins of Erebor firsthand but, she had left before the battle burials.  _This might also be Raven's first funeral,_ Fíli realized with another shock. Death had been a part of his life, Ered Luin had faced its hardships, but Raven had been sequestered away. Death was a new fear for her.

Wide blue eyes met his, but he could not give her the reassurance she sought and, quickly, she looked away. Raven was dressed in a thick cloak and light boots that Tauriel had made for her. Fíli could see, however, that his cousin was still fighting chills. Bilba herself looked little better and Fíli remembered how she'd struggled before on the Quest to stay warm.

"Thorin," Fíli said softly, moving towards his uncle. Thorin startled, clearing lost in his own memories and fears. "Bilba and Raven are cold," Fíli murmured, too quietly for either to hear. Thorin turned sharply, catching Bilba's attention as he focused on his One.

"We return to Bag End." he announced without preamble. Like some spell had been broken, the rest of the Company began moving back, eyeing Bilba and Raven. Dwalin moved over, shirking his coat in a single movement and wrapping it around Raven. Although she protested weakly, the warrior insisted, glueing himself firmly to her side. Thorin meanwhile did the same for Bilba who curled herself in to his side.

Fíli paused, looking back to the bare spot and sighing as he whispered his own apology to the dwarf he'd brought along.

"It was his pride you know to be picked," Fíli started and looked around to see Sórin, the young healer, standing behind him. "Heptin was my cousin's best friend. We lost Árni at the Battle of Five Armies, but after that we remained friends. You're renowned for your bravery and your skills and when he qualified and you chose him for this Company? It was the best day of his life since the Battle of Five Armies."

"I'm sorry," Fíli said, feeling the hollowness of the words. His apology could never bring Heptin back, nor could it serve as comfort for the friend Sórin was leaving behind.

"Don't be." Sórin said with an effort. "He would have preferred to die here than to remain in Erebor. And, well, to have your funeral conducted by a King and attended by The Company of Thorin Oakenshield? Thank you for respecting him so much. You have my thanks and that of his family for doing it."

"Sórin, listen to me, we're a Company too. You and Heptin are both members of Thorin Oakenshield's new Company. You have the honor of serving as part of the guard of Queen Bilba Baggins and her daughter, Princess Raven." Fíli murmured, reaching out and setting his hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "Never think that we undervalue your loyalty or courage. We recognize both. We never wish to lose you but, if your life is given in service to our family? Or our kingdom? Then we will honor it accordingly, Sórin."

"I am truly honored, my prince. There is a reason our family is loyal to yours, the line of Durin has been good to us and we won't forget it." Sórin murmured. Fíli nodded his assent and then motioned with his head back towards Bag End. Silently, he and Sórin moved back to where they'd left the ponies.

* * *

Since the disastrous New Years attack Thorin had insisted that they all live together in Bag End. Shaken by Heptin's death, no one had argued. As he mounted his pony, Fíli glanced over the rest of the Company. As was to be expected, Raven sat with Dwalin and Bilba with Thorin. As soon as Fíli and Sórin were mounted Thorin gave the silent signal. The remainder of the guard moved out, circling the Company as they all travelled back. Fíli stayed towards the end of the line, his eyes sharp as he regarded the countryside. It had once seemed peaceful, but now an enemy lurked behind each hill and shrub.

"We'll all die before we let anything near your family," Sórin moved his pony closer, speaking softly but intently.

"It's not that I don't trust you," Fíli replied, his gaze still roaming over the area.

"But we are warriors too. Fighting is in our blood and we cannot sit back and let others fight our battles for us." Kíli moved up on Sórin's other side, startling the dwarf.

"Of course, Sire, I never-" what was visible of Sórin's cheeks turned pink in humiliation.

"Stop, Sórin, we are Companions and so you will call me Fíli and my brother Kíli. We're not Princes, you're not a commoner, we're just companions." Fíli interrupted the dwarf.

"But it wouldn't be proper-" Sórin began to protest.

"But we don't care," Kíli insisted. "Fí's right, we're all friends here. Don't worry overmuch about my brother's seriousness though. Fíli's always been the responsible one." Kíli said conspiratorially to Sórin who, Fíli was glad to notice, gave his younger brother a little smile.

"I'm afraid I take after your brother, Prin-Kíli," Sórin confessed softly.

"Well then, I am even more sure that you two will be fast friends!" Kíli shot them a knowing smile and then spurred his pony ahead to ride beside Dwalin and Raven.

"Your brother," Sórin murmured, watching after Kíli.

"He's energetic," Fíli half apologized. Watching Sórin stare after Kíli, however, he felt a strange pang of jealousy.  _Stop it, Fíli, you're a grown dwarf now,_  he scolded himself. All the same, when Sórin looked back at him he couldn't help but feel a flash of foolish relief.

"You have a special bond," Sórin murmured.

"We always have, we're only five years apart after all," Fíli nodded.

"But things changed after he found his One?" Sórin asked softly.

"Tauriel is a member of our family and an excellent match for-" Fíli began at once; defensive of his family.

"I meant no offense," Sórin hurried, "I meant rather that I understand. Árni and I used to be close, we were of similar age and raised together. When he found his One, however, things were different, harder, afterwards." Fíli swallowed and nodded silently in agreement.

It was true though that he and Kíli had also drifted apart since his brother had taken Tauriel as his wife. Fíli would never begrudge his baby brother's happiness but it had been lonely without Kíli at constantly at his side.

"I specialized in Erebor in the healing of the mind rather than the body. The option to specialize was what motivated me to make the move. I am proficient when it comes to tending to wounds I had to be as a healer. I can tell, though, that you carry a heavy weight with you Prince Fíli. And, well, if you don't mind my saying, if you ever wish to talk I would be happy to listen." Sórin rambled and, although Fíli's instinct was to decline the offer he forced himself to nod instead.

"Thank you," he replied though inwardly he doubted he would ever find such a need. "Perhaps, you might consider seeking out Raven and Bilba as well?" he added after he realized the abruptness of his reply.

"It would be my honor if you believe they might be receptive to such an arrangement?" Sórin nodded.

"I will speak with Bilba," Fíli nodded. "It would ease my mind too to know that they have support."

"Of course," Sórin nodded, but drew his pony farther away, giving Fíli a chance to lose himself in his own thoughts.

* * *

When they arrived back in Bag End Bilba quickly ushered Raven into the bathroom for a hot bath. Fíli suspected it was also a chance for them to steal their own private moment. Since their arrival and especially the attack, Raven had been constantly surrounded. In retrospect, Fíli wondered if they should have tried harder to give mother and daughter time alone. Once they were out of sight, Fíli followed Thorin into Bilba's study. Balin and Dís silently followed after them though Kíli and Tauriel had yet to return from attending to the ponies.

"We need a plan," Fíli growled impatiently.

"The Blue Mountains must be confronted, aye." Thorin agreed, turning to face him and, for a moment, Fíli was struck by his uncle's age. Even when they'd been fighting and grieving Bilba, his uncle had always seemed so indomitable. Now, however, he just looked tired.

"Uncle?" Fíli probed.

"If this was a threat against you, what would you do?" Thorin asked softly and solemnly. He had always been groomed as Thorin's heir and this wasn't the first time that his uncle asked for his opinion. Yet, for some reason, this felt different. This felt like Thorin was relinquishing his right.

"Send word back to Erebor. Make sure they recognize Bilba as your true Queen and Raven as your princess. Spread the word, Bilba is a hobbit, Raven a dwobbit, but neither of them have any actual magic. Bilba has not enchanted you nor could she ever be capable of such. Don't hide from questions. Seek allies in what remains of Ered Luin to have more dwarrow at hand. Be ready to march on the Blue Mountains come the spring." Fíli replied, feeling his voice take on a different note of authority.

"And in the meanwhile?" Thorin asked.

"We speak to the hobbit Bounders. We alert them to possible danger and construct barracks closer to Bag End than even the Green Dragon. We all feel safer staying closer together but these quarters are unacceptable. We also establish a buddy system and several sets of check-ins. We want to be organized but unpredictable enough to outside attackers. We patrol and look for signs of any dwarrow or orc attackers." Fíli felt his confidence continue to grow.

"And if there is an attack?" Thorin grilled him calmly.

"We retaliate. We need the hobbits in the area to know the signal. We'll warn them to barricade themselves in their holes. Bilba, Raven, Bombur's boys, and anyone else not fighting will do the same here. None of us will go out together either, we'll keep a target off of our backs by refusing to appear as the full Line of Durin." Fíli responded.

"Good." Thorin nodded and then moved towards him and out the door.

"Thorin?" he asked in confusion. Surely, his uncle had more to say than 'good'.

"We have our plan, write the missives, I'm going to check in on Bilba and Raven." Thorin said.

"But-" Fíli began, his protest dying in his throat as his uncle regarded him.

"You have a good plan, you are more than ready for this responsibility." Thorin said and, sensing that there was more he wasn't saying, but knowing better than to push Thorin Fíli nodded.

"Do you want to look them over when I've finished?" he asked.

"If you would like," Thorin nodded and then Fíli turned back to his mother and Balin.

"He's right, you can handle this." Dís nodded approvingly before also exiting the room and leaving Fíli to eye Balin in mild apprehension.

"I won't leave unless you'd rather do it yourself, Lad?" Balin responded and Fíli offered his old tutor a smile. He could always count on Balin to have his back.

* * *

Hours later Fíli emerged in time for a subdued dinner. All throughout the meal, however, he couldn't help but think of Sórin. The young healer was off to the side, eating alone and Fíli had the strange urge to stand and go over to him. Instead, he stopped himself, and ate where he was. Surely the dwarf would prefer Kíli's company anyways, or someone else who was less morose. The letter-writing had stolen the rest of Fíli's energy and he was in a dark mood. If this didn't work then,  _would they be forced to flee again?_

"You look quite burdened," Fíli startled when he heard Sórin's soft comment. He had been mentally reviewing his plea to the dwarrow societies for peace. During his distraction, the rest of the dwarrow had begun spreading out and Sórin had moved over to him. "I can leave if you would prefer," Sórin murmured.

"Actually, I'm glad of the company," Fíli protested.

Since returning to the smial, Kíli and Tauriel had been sequestered in their room. Bilba meanwhile had been hovering so intently over Raven that he had decided to stay away. Thorin also hovered close to his One and their child, making Fíli feel unnecessary. They were all family, but surely Raven was feeling stifled enough as it was.

"Well then, I suppose I'll stay." Sórin murmured. "Do you want to share what's on your mind?"

"I shouldn't," Fíli murmured.

"As a healer I've taken oaths. I won't reveal whatever you tell me, it's completely confidential and, I promise, I won't break that trust." Fíli turned to face the dwarf, meeting his open sincere gaze and feeling a sudden craving to speak to the dwarf.

"I'm tired tonight, but perhaps tomorrow." Fíli suddenly lied, and then stood and left Sórin alone by the fire. Without anything else to do, he retreated to his room.

* * *

Some time later, Fíli was still lying awake in the dark when Raven finally snuck into his room.

"Are you still awake, Fí?" she whispered from the doorway.

"Yes, come in," he replied softly, and a moment later the bed dipped a little under her weight.

"Is your  _Amad_  asleep?" Fíli asked.

"And Pa as well." Raven nodded against his chest.

"But you can't sleep?" he asked softly.

"Isn't Heptin cold?" she whispered and Fíli did his best to keep his breathing even and not to freeze as he craved.

"Today, Raven, we buried Heptin's body and we remembered him, but he has moved on, he's in Mandos's halls now." Fíli responded, running a gentle hand through her unbound hair as he talked.

"And where's that?"

"It's not anywhere that we can go, not while we're living. Everyone that had died before us goes there. They wait for us there." Fíli remembered Dís explaining to him and Kíli many years ago that their father was in the Halls of Mandos. Back then she had promised that he was waiting for them one day far in the future. Fíli still clung to that hope, to the desireto meet his father once more. "We won't go there though, Raven, not for many many years. We have the blood of Durin in our veins and that gives us long lives. Your  _Adad_ will be two-hundred and thirteen this year, and he still has many years ahead of him."

"That's old!" Raven gasped, "much older than Ma."

"Yes, but he is much older than her, but we dwarrow live longer than hobbits. When we found out how young your  _Amad_  was it was quite the shock for us."

"But she was an adult when she went with you!" Raven protested, squirming closer into his side.

"Yes, she was, and even though Thorin is older than her, they will live for about the same length of time." Fíli said, inwardly wondering how old Raven would be when they passed. At the rate that she was growing she would at least be an adult. If Thorin and Bilba had more children, however, they might still be young when they lost their parents. Bilba was young enough to have children and, he suspected, Thorin would not object either. Heptin's death, however, was a cruel reminder of all of their mortality.

"So, that's why it's okay for Pa to be so much older than Ma?" Raven interrupted his musings.

"Yes, that's why." Fíli replied.

"How old are you?" Raven suddenly asked.

"I'll be one-hundred and ten this year," Fíli realized with a shock.

"Do you have someone too then? You're old enough!" Raven switched topics so quickly that Fíli's mind went momentarily blank.

"I don't," he confessed.

"Why not?"

"I'm not sure that I've found him yet," Fíli blurted, realizing the implications of his words.

"But how can you not be sure?" she asked.

"Because I haven't been able to talk to him." Fíli replied, hearing the weakness in his excuse.

For many years he had been faced with the prospect of courtship. He considered both dwarrows and dwarrowdams, but he had never connected with anyone. Unbidden, however, Sórin's face came to mind. There was something about the young healer that had drawn Fíli to him before. After all, he'd had all the dwarrow in Erebor to choose from when he was journeying to the Blue Mountains. Now, Fíli realized that though he was always friendly, he was fighting a new temptation with Sórin: to open up. Sórin had offered him the chance the other day, and Fíli wished that he had accepted the offer.

"Why a him?" Raven continued to ask, stirring Fíli from his thoughts. "Do I know him?"

"Many dwarrow choose other dwarrows instead of dwarrowdams. We all have a One, someone else who makes us feel whole. They may be male or female, a dwarrow or from another race. We are, perhaps, the most accepting race when it comes to such differences because no one can deny the bond." Fíli explained softly.

"But then why do those dwarrow not like my Ma? Isn't she Pa's One?" Raven inquired.

"She is, but they are not actually upset with her. They are upset with Thorin's choices. He gave every dwarf the same opportunity to live and work in Erebor. Some dwarrow think that he was wrong not to favor old families. They want to use your  _Amad_ 's status as a hobbit as an excuse to discredit him." Fíli said, wondering if Raven was still following.

"Well that's stupid," Raven said with a yawn, and Fíli smiled into the dark.

"It's late, try to get some sleep," he encouraged her, bending forward to kiss the top of her head. She nodded sleepily and, a few minutes later, he knew that she was fast asleep.

Fíli, however, was far from sleep. Instead, his mind circled endlessly as he considered the Sórin problem. He liked the other dwarf. That much was clear. What that attraction meant, however, he was unsure.

* * *

In the morning Raven was gone and Fíli was still exhausted. He hadn't slept well; his dreams filled with warm piercing eyes and hints of Sórin. Fíli groaned and splashed cold water on his face, trying to wake himself up. Surveying his still-haggard appearance, he steeled himself and then exited his chamber. There were many dwarrow already up, but he ignored all of them, heading instead for Sórin.

"Come for a walk with me?" he asked while the rest of the room stilled and fell silent. Sórin looked up at him from his seat and then nodded and rose, also studiously ignoring the gazes on them.

"Stay within sight and earshot of Bag End," Thorin caught Fíli's arm as the two headed for the door. Fíli nodded, fighting a blush, and then left. What was so odd about this after all? It wasn't like they were courting.  _Not yet,_  he told himself nervously. As for the rest of the Company, he could merely wish to talk to Sórin,  _couldn't I_? he demanded. Fíli, however, could still feel the gazes following them. Apparently, all of the Company were interested in his personal affairs.

For some reason, Fíli suspected that they all had a much more accurate assumption about Fíli's intentions. He clenched is jaw but continued outside, walking slightly ahead of Sórin as he gathered his thoughts. This wasn't a courting declaration,  _I don't have a gift._ In spite of himself, he felt his heart continue to thunder while his palms sweat lightly.  _I'm just here to talk to Sórin, just to see,_  Fíli told himself. Then, taking a final deep breath, Fíli turned to face the younger dwarf.


	25. twenty-four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli has a couple of revelations.

**_AN:_ ** _Thank you all for bearing with me! I'm so sorry, the updates have gotten slower, February's been pretty busy! I hope to_ _get back into some kind of a rhythm :) Special thanks to everyone for commenting and leaving kudos! I look forward to hearing from you what you think, your comments keep me motivated! :)_

* * *

 

_twenty-four_

Kíli

* * *

 

_Bag End, Hobbiton_

_4 January 2959_

When Kíli woke, Tauriel was sitting by the window. She curled in on herself slightly, head nearly brushing the low ceiling. Kíli wondered how uncomfortable she was, knowing that she'd never say anything. He loved that about her; Tauriel never backed down from a challenge and never complained. If there was something to be done then, she did it. There had been a lot of challenges too. Adjusting to life as royalty had been difficult for Kíli. Tauriel, however, had left everything that she knew for him. He could only imagine how much more difficult things had been for her. She was an outsider- she'd had to fight for acceptance, he had been given it: hailed as the Prince Savior of Erebor.

In spite of her cramped position, Tauriel looked radiant in Kíli's opinion. The sun filtered in through the round window, turning her long red locks into a fiery halo. Tauriel's attention was focused on Bilba's garden and the rolling green hills beyond. He knew that she liked to spend hours watching nature. It brought her peace. That was why, when he had built them a home in Erebor, he'd insisted on including a wall of windows. The dwarrow helping with the construction had been aghast, but he'd settle for no less. Tauriel struggled to live in the Mountain. It was true that Thranduil's halls were partially underground, but they felt more open to her. It was also why he'd raise the ceilings in their quarters and insisted they be adorned to mimic a night sky. At least in their home, he wanted her to feel comfortable. If that included bringing in undeniably elvish qualities then he would do it. No questions— she was his everything.

"Did you sleep?" he asked, stretching against the luxuriously soft pillows.

"Of course not," she smiled, looking over at him. She rarely slept but at least, after the attack, she had agreed to remain inside. Otherwise, he was aware of her habit of wandering or lying out under the stars in reflection.

"What did you do?" he asked but she simply smiled, and he knew that she wouldn't answer him.

He smiled back at her, acknowledging her proclivity for keeping her secrets. At one point in their relationship her secrecy had bothered him. They were learning, however; gradually becoming more comfortable with their differences. After all, they were Bonded as only true Ones could ever be. When she was close, he sensed her presence and vice versa. Sometimes, when he concentrated, he could sense her emotions as well. Apparently, she always could sense him; his presence and emotions. He thought it was part of her elvish magic, as he called her preternatural abilities. Kíli owed his life directly to her healing abilities, not once but twice. How many times she'd come to his rescue after sensing his distress he didn't know.

Focusing on Tauriel, Kíli extended his senses, feeling for her through their bond. He smiled as he registered her contentment. He was still working on their bond, but he hoped that one day he'd be able to help her as much as she helped him. Looking up, their gazes met and he read the amusement in her bright eyes. Clearly, she had sensed his efforts. He crawled from their bed, going over to her and setting a gentle hand on her belly. She could sense the child within, but Kíli had yet to sense the product of their union. She covered his hand with her own, smiling softly. She had only told him recently. Since then, however, he couldn't stop staring at her— as though watching her would make their child visible.

"Are you hungry? I can go and fetch you something," he blurted and she laughed quietly.

"We'll go together," she insisted, "anyways, I am dressed and you are not. Perhaps, I should be the one to bring you breakfast," she teased while he glared balefully at her.

"Stay put," he warned her, hurrying for his clothing while she laughed.

Care of an expectant mother was just as important as guarding children in Kíli's culture. As the father, he was supposed to care for Tauriel and their babe in any and every way possible. If he failed it reflected badly on him in the eyes of every dwarrow because he would not be a responsible father. Even if Tauriel sometimes chafed at his attentions, he refused to have it any other way. After all, Kíli knew how much attention was paid to other expectant mothers. He had no wish for Tauriel to see it and feel like their child was treated as lesser for its elvish heritage.

* * *

When Kíli emerged from the room, alone, he headed straight for the kitchens. Already, the hearty scents of bacon, sausages and fried eggs were filling the hallway. Kíli nodded good morning to Bombur while he began assembling two plates.

"Save some for the others, Kíli!" he turned to see Bilba entering, eyeing the plates pied high.

"It's not for me!" Kíli protested without thinking.

"And Tauriel eats all that?" Bilba surveyed the plates. "Elves almost never even eat meat," she frowned.

"She's hungry," Kíli edged away with his plates, not liking the way that Bilba's brow furrowed in thought. The hobbit was keen of mind— sometimes too much so.

"Enough to eat for two?" Kíli's jaw dropped as his mind reeled.  _How had she gotten it so quickly?_

"Please, she'll kill me if I tell—" Kíli begged, his eyes going wide while Bilba regarded him with grim amusement.

"That she will, but you have to be more subtle." Bilba agreed disapprovingly. "Off you go before the others arrive, and tell her congratulations, won't you?" Bilba winked at him, letting him know she wasn't too upset.

"You won't tell, will you?" Kíli pleaded as he back out of the room, but Bilba merely smiled. Feeling doomed, Kíli trudged back to the room, plates in hand.

"What happened?" Tauriel had already exited the room, her expression concerned. No doubt, she had sensed his distress as she took a plate from him.

"Bilba was in the kitchen," Kíli admitted, shepherding Tauriel back into their room.

"And?" Tauriel asked while Kíli shot her a miserable look. His elf frowned compassionately, but refused to put him out of his misery.

"She knows, and says congratulations." Kíli spat the words out, deciding that it was better said and gotten over.

"She knows, does she?" Tauriel looked down at him, her voice cold and Kíli set his plate on the bed.

" _Melamin,_ " he murmured, taking her plate and setting both breakfasts aside. He stepped forward, and took her hands in his. "I didn't mean it! I didn't say anything, but she caught me! Bilba was going to make me put it back if it was just for me, so I just said it was for you, I promise, that's all I said!" he implored, though her expression remained the same.

"And you have no idea how she came to her conclusion?" she asked sternly.

"Why would your eating habits mean you were with child?" Kíli returned. "You're a warrior the same as Fíli or Dwalin! I've even seen Uncle eat twice as much!" he protested. Suddenly, like a dam breaking, Tauriel burst out in laughter and Kíli found himself pouting in protest.  _Why did no one explain these things,_ he groaned mentally.

"Well, it could have been worse," Tauriel finally conceded as Kíli leaned against her. " _Im gohena._ " (I forgive) Tauriel murmured and Kíli beamed at her. This was how things always worked with them. One of them would inevitably blunder but, the other would always be forgiving. Typically, it was Kíli messing up. On occasion, however, Tauriel's unfamiliarity with dwarrow culture led her astray.

When Dís had first come to the mountain, she and Tauriel had fought over cultural differences. Dís wanted a partner for Kíli who would support him as he navigated through the reconstruction of Erebor. Tauriel knew nothing about his expected duties as a prince. Therefore, while he assumed his proper role, she had been able to do little to lighten his burden. Tauriel had always supported him as Kíli, but she remained lost when it came to dwarrow expectations. Furthermore, Tauriel was not royalty. Her experiences and responsibilities in the halls of Thranduil were all-but incomparable. As a Captain of the Guard she earned Dís's respect for her combat prowess. Her training, however, hardly made her into ideal princess material.

Given the pregnancy, Kíli imagined that his One and his mother would need further moderation. Children weren't a common occurrence and, as a member of the line of Durin, there would be rituals to go through. He knew from previous experience that Tauriel dismissed many dwarrow traditions. Elves focused on their connection to each other and the earth. They did not, apparently, pray to their creators. The dwarrow's prayers to their Maker to bless the restoration of Erebor was entirely new. Tauriel had politely abstained, and though academically curious, remained disinterested in participating herself. Her skepticism amused Kíli because he recognized Tauriel's spiritualism. However, Dís had little patience for her repeated dismissals. She saw them as blatant disrespect for their culture. In her mind, it was Tauriel's duty was to accept Kíli's traditions and to support him just as Víli had supported her.

Privately, Kíli wondered how Bilba and Raven would do with the changes to their lives. Bilba had always gone above and beyond on behalf of the Company. Still, becoming Queen and adhering to Ereborian expectations was a lot to handle. Raven too was used to a much freer lifestyle; when she got to Erebor that would inevitably change. Kíli remembered how much he'd hated those first few months. He had needed Tauriel to keep him from lashing out.  _Hopefully,_  he reflected,  _Bilba and Raven will have it easier. We can all help them,_  he knew.

* * *

" _Melamin?_ " Tauriel gently brought him back to the present.

"When will we tell people?" Kíli asked suddenly. There were still many difficulties that lay ahead of their pregnancy and he wanted Oín to examine her.

"Not for some time, I imagine, elves carry for twenty-four months," Tauriel replied and Kíli's jaw dropped. "I take it then dwarrow are different?" she asked.

"We carry for seventeen." Kíli felt a tingle of pride for having remembered that fact.

"Humans, I believe, carry nine months. I assume that hobbits carry even less, given their plentiful population." Tauriel said and Kíli frowned, making a note to ask Bilba about both hobbits and how long she'd carried Raven for.

The lass was a fair mix of both her heritages; likely to be a short dwarf, with the feet and ears of a hobbit. She was stronger though than her mother's kin, and her hair was enviable by dwarrow standards. Not for the first time, Kíli tried to imagine what his child would look like. He hoped that it would be a girl. Of course daughters were prized amongst all dwarrow. His desire to see Tauriel's features replicated was no secret. He had not asked Tauriel yet about her wishes. They had not spoken much about the baby— afraid of being overheard.

"What do you want it to be?" he turned to her and read the surprise in her fair features.

"The babe?" she inquired, a hand drifting almost unconsciously to her flat stomach.

"Of course," Kíli nodded eagerly.

"I have not given it much thought, all children are a blessing to the Eldar," Tauriel dismissed.

"We have wise healers who specialize in foretelling if a babe will be a boy or a girl. Back in Erebor,  _Amad_  will want us to visit one. There will likely be a ceremony and celebration. Dwarrow babies though are almost always boys." Kíli explained, having heard the implied question in Tauriel's answer.

"And are you personally interested in visiting these wise healers?" Tauriel queried, fixing him with her steely gaze.

"Alone I would not pressure you to do it, but babes are prized to my people. After so much hardship, it would be good to give them a cause to celebrate our union." Kíli replied carefully. "The blood of Durin will flow strongly in our child so, likely we will have a son. If by some miracle we have a daughter, the dwarrow will rejoice at the birth of a Princess. They feasted for weeks after my  _Amad_  was born."

"Among the Eldar there are an equal number of births. However, more of our womenfolk have taken the ship to the West. We appear then to have more boys than girls." Tauriel shared, and Kíli listened attentively. Tauriel had always been reluctant to share her past with him. Kíli knew that Thranduil had fostered her, but she refused to talk more about her own family.

"Is that where-"

"No." she interrupted him sharply, and Kíli fell silent. As the silence stretched he sighed.

"Tauriel," he implored in simultaneous quiet apology and query. He had tried time and time again before to ask her, never to any success.

"My father wanted my mother to take the ship, to raise me in the West, where I'd be safe and have companions my age. Almost no elves here dare to have a family. It's simply too dangerous and our childhood is long. My mother refused because my father was not ready to sail West. He was an adviser to the King who was still grieving his Queen's loss. My mother refused to leave him. He insisted, however, that it would be too dangerous to stay, that she had to leave and he would join us.

"In the end, he was right. My mother hated being confined inside the fortress. She had family who lived a short distance away and she craved the freedom to see the sky. After I was born, she insisted on being able to visit with her family. We were escorted there, but the guards were needed elsewhere. Even then, the darkness was growing. My father also had to return to the palace while my mother stayed the season with our kin. It worried him to no end, and rightly so. The spiders were becoming more bold, they were attacking Elvin settlements.

"He was in the fortress, serving the King when he heard of the attack. He left immediately, not waiting for guards. My father was no warrior. His desperation sped his travel. He arrived at the end of the attack from what I've been told. He did not survive long.

"I was the only survivor. Everyone there fought to protect me. I was hidden from the spiders, though they almost killed me when the guards arrived. Thranduil took me in out of pity for my circumstances. He raised me, and I became a warrior. I was determined to rid the forest of the same monsters who took my family. The world here is a dangerous place. I would that our child could be raised in safety, but you cannot come West with me. So, we will defend them with our lives. We will make sure that our child is loved. I care not for trivial matters such as having a son or a daughter. I care about ensuring that our child is happy, that they are loved and protected."

Kíli moved towards Tauriel, taking her hands in his. " _Melamin,_ " he murmured softly. He had known that her childhood was difficult, but her prolonged agony struck him. "We won't leave our children, and we can have more than one, they can be like Fí and I, brothers and best friends." he promised, feeling a pang of guilt for how he had become separate from his family.

Seeing, and especially teasing, Bilba and Thorin each day was slowly melting Kíli's anger away bit by bit. Naturally, he was still upset at Thorin's weakness. Still, he knew that he and the other members of the Company had also been unaffected by the gold sickness. After all,  _why hadn't any of them argued? Why hadn't he jumped in?_ Kíli straightened suddenly, and Tauriel jerked back surprised by his movement.

"What-" Tauriel began.

"I need to speak to my Uncle." Kíli replied. "You're right, family is our strength, and I have wronged mine. My uncle never gave up on his father, but I have cast my family aside for a wrong that has already been forgiven." he explained, reaching up, drawing Tauriel down to kiss. "I won't let my mistake hang over our family." he vowed as she smiled approvingly at him. He dashed from the room— seeking his uncle.

* * *

Kíli found Thorin in the living room, watching out the front window along with most of the Company.

"What's going on?" Kíli asked, his curiosity distracting him as he shouldered in beside Thorin. His uncle registered his presence, then answered slowly when no one else replied.

"Fíli's asked to speak with the young healer." his uncle rumbled in quiet approval.

"Sórin?" Kíli asked in surprise.

"Yes, that's the one! The lad looked like a dwarf on a mission too!" Bofur waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Kíli eagerly peered around Thorin, catching a glimpse of his brother as he turned to face the young healer.

Kíli observed his older brother, recognizing the nerves playing across his brother's face. Another pang of guilt shot through him. When he'd turned on Thorin his decision had also cost Kíli his relationship with his brother. It wasn't that Fíli had picked Thorin over Kíli, but he'd had to step into his role as the Crown Prince. As such, he'd put his personal differences aside to be able to work with Thorin. That work had caused them to drift apart and now it was Tauriel who Kíli turned to— not Fíli. That, no doubt, was why he was hearing about this second hand.

"Can I talk to you, Uncle?" Kíli asked quietly, though given the room's sharp attention, of course heads turned.

"Of course," Thorin replied, though there was clear suspicion in his voice.

They exited the room, heading into Bilba's office. Once there, Kíli closed the door. Turning back to Thorin, Kíli was surprised to realize that his uncle was worried.

"Uncle-"

"Kíli-" they interrupted each other. Thorin nodded at Kíli, however, and the younger dwarf gathered his nerves and continued.

"When we first realized that Bilba was alive and had a daughter I demanded your hair in retribution. I punished you for what had happened to them. I should have realized that what transpired was not your fault. We were all affected by the Gold Sickness, it was simply you who suffered the most. I could not see that truth for myself. Instead, I shamed you. I took your hair." Kíli reached into his pocket. His fingers closed around the braid that he had taken from his uncle. "I offer you back your braid as token of a debt repaid. I was wrong to ever accept, let alone demand it from you in the first place." Kíli knelt and proffered the braid to his uncle. Thorin hesitated for only a second before he stepped forward and took it from his nephew.

"You acted in defense of our family. You reminded me of what I had done wrong and what was at stake and required. I will never ask you to apologize for defending our family, especially my One and my daughter." Thorin replied smoothly, and Kíli stole a hopeful look at his uncle. Thorin didn't sound like his uncle, but his king. What Kíli wanted, was to have his uncle back. As though he sensed his desire, Thorin reached out and grasped Kíli's forearm, tugging him to his feet. Kíli rose and Thorin grasped the back of his neck, pulling him forward to tap their foreheads together. Kíli found himself smiling as he leaned into his uncle's embrace. This was the Thorin he remembered. This was the Uncle he'd followed into battle. This was the sense of family that he had lost to the Gold Sickness.

* * *

They emerged from the office a short while later to rejoin the group. The peaceful candor between them speaking louder than any words. Dwalin caught Kíli's eye from across the room and he shrugged. Dwalin had been his stalwart ally; refusing to let Thorin forget his mistake. Now, their actions felt childish to Kíli. He let his gaze drift back to Thorin as Raven appeared, attaching herself to her father's side. That more than anything spoke to why Kíli had forgiven Thorin.  _If Bilba and Raven can forgive Thorin for his transgressions then, why should I hold out? Why should I hold a grudge that had already torn their family apart?_

Dwalin raised an eyebrow in silent question. Raven continued to distract Thorin, chattering away about making pies with Bilba. Kíli responded with a mild shrug. Dwalin sighed in response, crossing his arms across his chest. Kíli watched as he sank into deep thought, presumably about his own actions. Despite his anger, Dwalin's resolution to die for his king if necessary never wavered. It was instead their friendship that had suffered. Dwalin had never quite forgiven himself for betraying Bilba either. It was a guilt that neither he nor Kíli voiced, but a pain that they had shared and pushed on to Thorin. Kíli hoped that Dwalin would also find forgiveness and a renewed friendship possible.

All the attention in the room shifted as the door opened and Fíli entered. Immediately, Kíli bounded over to his brother, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. Fíli flushed crimson, and Kíli took it as encouragement, tackling his brother. Fíli gave a cry of surprise, causing Sórin to dash into the hobbit hole while Kíli and the others roared with laughter. Sórin flushed red and while Kíli's attention was also on the other dwarf, Fíli attacked. As his elder brother jumped on him and wrestled him to the ground, Kíli let out his own cry of surprise. Then, he eagerly returned the attack. They rolled about on the floor in an altogether un-princely manner.

* * *

When they parted, both dwarrow were breathing heavily as they looked at each other. They had tussled before, but both sensed that something had changed. Kíli took Fíli's hand and tugged him outside. The cool winter air felt refreshing as both brothers turned to face each other again.

"So, Sórin," Kíli said and Fíli nodded once, almost stiffly. "Well, are you courting yet?" Kíli demanded impatiently.

"We're talking, that's all," Fíli replied begrudgingly.

"And that's all you're going to tell me Fí?" Kíli whined and Fíli shoot him a suspicious glance. Kíli fought a pang of disappointment. Fíli used to trust him implicitly. Now, the gap between them was even more apparent. Kíli didn't quite know what had happened, but he hated the distance between them.

"Trade?" Kíli offered impulsively. Surely, Tauriel wouldn't mind if he told Fíli.

"What's been happening with you and Tauriel?" Fíli asked immediately and, for an instant, Kíli feigned innocence.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been squirreled away. You're always talking in whispers, sharing secret smiles-" Fíli abruptly cut himself off. His brother's eyes went wide in dawning comprehension. "You wouldn't happen to be expanding our family, would you?" Kíli scowled. It wasn't that he didn't want Fíli to know, he'd been about to tell his brother, but had he really been that transparent? "Kí?" Fíli asked quietly, his face falling in trepidation.

"It was that easy to guess?" Kíli pouted and Fíli's face broke into a wide grin of relief.

"You're my Kí." he replied simply.

"I've missed you," Kíli blurted and Fíli smiled.

"I know, me too."

"So, now you know about me. What about you?" Kíli pressed.

"I think he's my One. I haven't really talked to him much so I didn't register the draw. Not until the funeral," Fíli said with a little shrug.

"And Sórin?" Kíli asked, feeling hope rise in his beast as he thought about his big brother finally being happy.

"He admitted something similar. He's felt it for longer, I think. He was worried though about mentioning anything given the difference in our stations." Fíli's voice remained reserved, however, there was an undeniable glimmer of excitement in his gaze.

"And?" Kíli demanded.

"I've asked to court him." Fíli replied. "I'll start on a gift soon to make the offer formal." Fíli replied.

Kíli grinned, "I'm happy for you, Fí! So, what are you going to make for him?"

They were still discussing options for Fíli's gift when the door to Bag End opened and Bilba emerged. Her face was pale and expression worried.

"What's wrong?" Kíli frowned. Immediately, he extended his senses through his bond with Tauriel. It felt distant, like she was shielding herself from him. Worry coursed through him, _had something happened to her or the baby?_

"Nothing, not at the moment," Bilba replied, though Kíli exchanged a worried look with Fíli.

"Bilba," Fíli pressed gently, "what's going on?"

"I thought you should know, Tauriel left in a hurry. She said that she sensed Legolas," Bilba finally admitted and Kíli felt a mix of relief and new worry. At least she wasn't shieldin herself from him, she was simply further than he anticipated. At the same time, however, she had left without him noticing through the bond. He had to work on his senses, he told himself. Not to mention, who knew the kind of danger she might be in if she was alone.

"Where did she go? How long ago? Why did you let her leave?" he demanded impatiently.

"She just left, Kíli. She can take care of herself too. She thinks it's important too," Bilba replied. Her tone took on a defensive edge that made Kíli feel both annoyed at her nonchalance and rebuffed like a child.

He was speaking before he had the chance to contemplate his words. "But she's-" he cut himself off. Both Bilba and Fíli now knew about Tauriel's condition but, it felt strange discussing it without her there.

"She'll be fine, Kí, Bilba's right. Tauriel can handle herself." Fíli cut in, and Kíli shot his brother a reproachful glare.

"But what if it's a trap," Kíli fought a pout while Fíli watched him in growing curiosity.

"Kíli, I think you're overreacting. Of course you should be worried and protective, but I'll freely admit Tauriel's one of the best warriors I know. She wouldn't walk into a trap, not unless you were in danger and she knew you were here. You're worrying over nothing, little brother, she'll be fine. They both will." Fíli insisted.

"They both?" a sharp voice cut in, and Kíli cursed silently as he turned towards his  _Amad._  It wasn't that he didn't want her to know, but he and Tauriel had yet to think of a way to break the news. Also, considering the early stage of the pregnancy they'd wanted to wait to make the announcement.

" _Amad_ -" Kíli began to hedge.

She narrowed her eyes. "Don't you dare." she warned.

"Please, can we do this after we've found and spoken with Tauriel?" Kíli begged and Dís set her hands on her hips.

"She only just left, she promised she'd be right back, but I thought you'd want to know." Bilba interjected, looking between them with a mixture of determination and insecurity. Kíli remembered that same expression many a time during the quest. It was a reason why she'd endeared herself to so many of the Company. Whatever Bilba did, there was no denying her well-meaning intentions.

"So, we'll go after her." Dís decided and Kíli found himself nodding in agreement with his  _Amad._  "Kíli," she prompted. He realized a belated moment later that she meant for him to use his connection with his One to track her. He closed his eyes and concentrated. When he found Tauriel, his eyes popped open in surprise.

The elf in question appeared, Legolas and the ranger, Aragorn, beside her. She smiled in Kíli's direction while he fixed his gaze on the elvin prince. Tauriel had told him how Legolas had fancied her and even admitted that a long time ago it had been flattering. A pang of jealousy shot through Kíli, and Tauriel moved to his side, leaning down and kissing him.

" _Melamin,"_  she murmured and he fought a blush. Apparently, she'd sensed his jealousy. In the background, he was vaguely aware of Bilba greeting the two newcomers with smiles. He might never get along well with the elvin prince, but he, Aragorn, and Bilba shared a genuine friendship.

"Prince Legolas," Dís greeted politely, if cooly.

"Princess Dís," he replied with a bowed acknowledgment that Dís returned stiffly.

"What brings you here?" she demanded without further ado.

"I'm afraid we bear ill tidings." Aragorn replied, "we've found traces of a camp. It is an armed contingent of dwarrow headed in this direction. We came at once to notify you."

"How do you know that they are a threat?" Dís glared warily at him.

"They said some less-than-complimentary things about Erebor's leadership," Legolas interjected. "We may have had history between our families, Princess Dís, however, I hold no continued hostility. I consider Bilba and Raven to be my friends. I won't jeopardize either our friendship nor their safety because of past wrongdoings." Legolas spoke eloquently, and Kíli caught Tauriel's gaze.  _Was the prince sincere?_  he asked her through his gaze. She smiled her reply: apparently, the princeling was being truthful. Kíli regarded his mother. Dís was famed for her temper and ability to hold a grudge. For the sake of their family, Kíli prayed that she would make no such fuss.

"You better come in, Thorin will want to hear about this directly." Dís finally said.


	26. twenty-five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven steps into her role as a Daughter of Durin.

**AN:** So sorry for how long it took me to get this up! It's roughly edited, so I apologize for any mistakes! Hoping that with the spring I'll have more energy and time to write, fingers are crossed that then next chapter will be up before April 20th or so! Anyways, thank you all for the continued support: the comments and kudos! They really make my day and they do motivate me, I promise! :) Happy reading, and let me know what you think of it! 

* * *

 

_twenty-five_

Raven

* * *

**Bag End, Hobbiton**

**11 January 2959**

"Not today,  _mim ze._ " Dwalin dismissed her for the third day running. Raven glared up at the warrior, her practice sword in her hand.

The Party Field had been turned into a training ground. Currently, it was full of sparring dwarrow. The Company was there in full- all spread out and sparring in pairs or groups with the guards that Fíli had brought.

"But I want to train too," Raven protested.

"Not now, Lass, you're not a part of this." the warrior finally dignified her with a glance. The past few days Raven had let herself become distracted— sent on her way like some errant child.

"Why not? I'm a daughter of Durin, aren't I?" she glared at him. He responded with an infuriatingly indulgent smile.

"You are, but yer also a child." Dwalin insisted.

"He's right," Raven spun on her heel to see that Thorin had abandoned his own sparring session with Fíli.

"I'm sixteen, not a babe! And, anyways, aunty Dís says that I am old enough to have responsibilities when it comes to caring for our people." she protested.

"Responsibilities, aye, but that doesn't mean fighting. No matter what you say, you are just a babe." Dwalin retorted.

"What about self-defense?" Raven protested. "Aunt Dís fights, and even Ma can defend herself."

"And you will learn, but not right now." Thorin declared and Raven flinched. She glared at him and then turned on her heel and marched away from the field, her head held stubbornly high. She knew that eyes were on her— they would be until the round green door of her home closed behind her. Still, she would not flee nor would she slink. She had a right to be there. She wanted to fight alongside her people and, one day, they would let her. They had to.

* * *

"Raven, is that you?" The moment she pushed the door open she heard Bilba's voice.

"Yes, Ma!" she called back, changing her direction to head into the kitchen.

"Are you going to work on your studies?" Bilba asked, without looking up from the apple-hand pie that she was trimming.

Since coming to Hobbiton they'd both gained weight at an almost alarming rate. Raven was no longer thin, instead her figure was curvy now. Not plump like the other hobbits or dwarrow, but not so willowy as Tauriel's form either. Thinking about the amount of food, she felt the urge to do something. She should train, perhaps, or at least go for a walk but, instead, day after day she was trapped inside for "her own safety".

"I guess, Ma." Raven repeated dully, thinking of the school work ahead of her. Bilba looked up at Raven with a silent question. Usually, it was true, Raven loved her studies, but since the attack her drive had undeniably faded. Raven knew that her life was in transition. She and Bilba would not remain in Hobbiton forever- they would go with Thorin back to Erebor. When they did, she wanted to be prepared. Raven wanted to be learning dwarrow politics, practicing her khuzdul, or training. All those activities would help her adjust to life in the Mountain. Instead, she was languishing in her old ways.

"Want to help me instead?" Bilba offered, bringing Raven back to the present, and she nodded eagerly. Making hand-pies at least meant she got time with Bilba instead of sitting alone in her room. Raven smiled as she moved to join Bilba. She had missed the time with Bilba and Aunt Primula.

The winter was still cold. If they were living in the smial then, she, Bilba, and Aunt Primula would likely be gathered around the stove. She'd be deep in her studies and they'd likely be cheery in spite of the weather. Now, when she had work to do she was left alone in her room. Baldur and Elsbur had studies to attend to as well, so they were all separated to "better focus on their work". It was true that they did have a habit of laughing on occasion, but Raven still thought it was stupid. She'd get no more work done sitting alone and miserable.

Raven leaned her practice sword against the wall and headed for the sink to wash her hands. When she was done, she approached Bilba, rolling up her sleeves and taking a small ball of dough to work with. Bilba didn't say anything, nor did Raven. Instead, mother and daughter worked together in silence. When the hand pies were done, they silently agreed to move on to cranberry and orange scones. After that, Bilba pulled out a pumpkin muffin recipe. Mid-way through preparation, Bilba realized that they were out of several spices. At once, Raven jumped at the chance to run down to the market.

"It's market day, Ma, there will be plenty of people around! I'll be safe, it's not worth interrupting the practice for this little errand," Raven insisted.

"Well," Bilba hesitated, clearly in agreement with Raven, but also worried.

"It's just in front of the inn, it's not far, and it's still mid-morning. Nothing's going to happen!" Raven begged. "It's not like I can do anything anymore anyways! You trusted me out by the smial and this is a fraction of the distance!"

"And you'll come straight back?" Bilba finally relented.

"I promise." Raven nodded, feeling a rush of hope growing in her chest at the prospect of freedom- even if it was temporary.

"Alright, fine, but if you're not back in half an hour I am sending a team of guards after you, including Thorin  _and_  Dwalin." Bilba threatened, fixing Raven with a stern glare.

Raven nodded, shivering at the thought of Dwalin and Thorin coming after her if she was late. Of course, if she was ever in real trouble, there was no one else she'd rather have come to her rescue. When it came to babysitting, however, they were unfairly overprotective in her opinion.

Bilba handed her over some coins and a list of items and a few moments later Raven was exiting the smial. There were a few guards about, but she waved them off. Bilba had even emerged from the kitchen to agree that Raven could do this on her own. The dwarrow didn't seem happy at the prospect, but neither did they openly argue with Bilba.

That was how Raven found herself skipping down the path to the market. The day was sunny and she was glad to be out and about without a retinue. Raven took the long route to avoid going by the Party Field and its practicing dwarrow. If Thorin saw her, or Dwalin, they certainly wouldn't approve. Then, assuming she wasn't immediately hauled back home, she'd be sure to at least have a huge escort.

Raven entered the market area, rushing to get what Bilba required. If she finished early, she figured, then surely Bilba wouldn't miss her for a few minutes. Satisfied with her purchases and feeling a little hungry, she slipped into the tavern. She was glancing up at the menu, considering a danish, when she overheard the gossip. She wandered away from the bar and the careful watch of the bar maid. Passing as a faunt, everyone knew to guard their wares. After all, it was always the youth stealing pies and such with their unending appetites. Thinking about it, Raven's stomach growled, though her interest tore her away.

"Saw them, don't know why, but all these strangers can't mean anything good." a hobbit was saying.

"More dwarves, and here I thought we had too many already." his companion was muttering.

"Though they haven't been anything but polite, overpaying for everything!" a young hobbit, that Raven vaguely recognized as a neighbor interjected.

"Keep your strange opinions to yourself, Gamgee. They're sparring in the party field! Filling our youth with all sorts of bad ideas, not to mention how they punished poor Lotho!" the first hobbit interjected.

"Lotho had it coming! He's had his hands up far more skirts than he was invited to!" Gamgee protested. "As for the sparring, we all know what happened during the Fell Winter, who's to say that things won't get bad again? We could stand to learn how to fight, the Bounders know archery, but that's about it and they're our main line of defense!" Raven was drawn to the conversation, listening with open interest.

"I still say, signs of more of the isn't a good idea. There's that one dwarf that died, murdered, it's said and I don't want their warfare in our home." the second hobbit insisted, and even Gamgee appeared to agree with the sentiment.

"Where did you see the other dwarrow?" Raven couldn't contain herself, and heads turned in her direction.

"Miss Raven!" Gamgee exclaimed.

"Out on the Old North Road, 'bout a two days walk!" the first hobbit added, obviously glad for the attention.

"When? How far?" Raven demanded.

"My wife's sister and her family came from the North Farthing, day before yesterday, saw them with their own eyes!" the hobbit insisted. Raven turned on her heel and left the inn at a run, her stomach's grumblings forgotten.

Behind her, Gamgee cried out in protest. "But Miss Raven, you've forgotten your groceries!"

* * *

Raven raced up to the Party Field, her legs burning as she ran as fast as she could. Dwalin, observant as ever saw her coming and the action on the field quickly stopped.

"Dwarrow on the North Road, not a days fast walk from here! Someone in the Green Dragon was saying!" Raven gasped out. Dwalin and Thorin exchanged a glance.

"What were you doing in the inn, Raven?" Thorin stepped forward.

"Getting groceries!" Raven replied, glaring in frustration at Thorin.

"Where are they?" Dwalin asked and Raven's frustration increased ten fold.

"I overhead and came here, I must have left them behind!" she snapped. "But the dwarrow, is it their camp?" she demanded.

"It could be, we'll investigate, you should go back up to the smial, it's not safe for you to be out." Thorin insisted.

"Aye, lassie, he's right. Where's your guard?" Dwalin demanded.

"I was just at the market, there was no need-" Raven began.

"No need-"

"What were you thinking!"

"Wholly irresponsible-"

"And Bilba let you-"

Chaos erupted. Raven glared and spun on her heel, marching determinedly away. The dwarrow could keep fighting amongst themselves. She had only wanted to be helpful, had thought that what she overheard would be important. Instead, it was still a round robin of 'protect Raven' and she was still seen as having no importance.

* * *

Raven stomped up to the smial, slamming the door behind her. Immediately, she retreated to her bedroom. She heard Bilba calling for her, but ignored her. Once alone, Raven took in her tranquil space. It was a beautiful room, it had a window with a desk by it so that she could look out over Hobbiton's rolling green hills. When she had first moved in she'd fallen in love with the space and the lighting. Now, however, she wanted nothing more than to escape it all. The food, the safety, even the people were all restricting her. All wanted her to stay put, to be safe and she did love their care, but she was not one to sit back and let others do the dirty work.

"Raven?" Bilba tapped on the door.

"I'm studying, Ma! The dwarrow have the groceries." Raven called back. Bilba sighed, but retreated without opening the door. Raven waited for the sound of the front door. Sure enough, Bilba exited, likely to go and interrogate them. At least the dwarrow listened to Bilba. She had their respect. Whenever Raven tried to do anything she was reprimanded for not being safe.

For years, Raven had dreamed of nothing but leaving the Smial. She wanted to see the world. She wanted to meet her father. She wanted a family. She wanted an adventure. All of her wishes had come true. Now, she almost wished that some of them hadn't. She loved her new family and the dwarrow. They were good to her and to Bilba — no question of that.

Since coming to Hobbiton, however, Raven's understanding of the world had changed. Raven's life had changed. Bilba was always away visiting and placating family with teas and such. When she was home, Thorin was now properly courting her and, as a result, Raven saw little of Bilba. Kíli and Fíli had made an effort to be with her, getting to know her as well. They had become her honorary brothers, and she loved listening to their stories. Thorin had also done his best to be around, though he was often busy with the other dwarrow or Bilba. Dís and Dwalin were never far away either. Dís was intent on teaching Raven how to be a proper dwarrowdam. It was something, however, that Raven had little-to-no interest in. Dwalin had continued to train her, up until the attack and Legolas's subsequent arrival. Now, the dwarrow were all training to fight while Raven was being kept purposefully out of it.

Thinking about the attack made Raven simultaneously scared, confused, and angry. She didn't know exactly what had happened, but the dwarf, Heptin, was dead. He had been murdered. She had known that before. She still didn't fully understand death either. They'd hunted at the Smial, but Heptin was the first person that she knew who had died. He'd been nice to her. She didn't know much about him, but all the dwarrow were nice. Now, he was dead: lying out there under the cold earth. It was scary how quickly things had changed. Not that she ever dared to say it out loud, but it terrified her to think of how easily the warrior had been killed. Her father, Dwalin, Fíli, Kíli, and all the others were great warriors too. Perhaps, however, that wasn't enough. At the same time, however, no one was really talking about it to Raven. She tried to talk to Baldur and Elsbur about the attack. Every time that they began discussing the attack, however, they were separated. It was infuriating.

Raven paused, considering the past few days and the information that she had gained. Back at the smial there would have been no question. She had information, she was not without her own strength. She would simply have gone and seen to the matter. Now, she cowered inside.  _Why_ , she berated herself,  _what changed?_   _The danger,_  she told herself, before dismissing the fear. She could sit down and do her work, as she'd claimed she was doing to Bilba-she should do that, but she knew that she wouldn't. Instead, with a sudden burst of determination, she grabbed her rucksack. She wasn't a warrior by any stretch of the imagination. She knew that, but Legolas's information had been invaluable. It had even helped the dwarrow in overcoming their prejudice against elves. Raven now had a lead of her own— one that the dwarrow were overlooking. It could still be crucial and Raven was stealthy. She knew how to move about unnoticed. If she could get out and scout then at least she'd be helpful. She could also then prove that she could be a part of the effort, that she could help her people and wasn't just a child.

Determination flared in her veins and, she smiled. She had a purpose now. She'd always looked out for Bilba and Aunty Primula— this would be no different. She was going to look out for her family. They might not have asked nor acknowledged her, but after this they would.

* * *

It wasn't too hard for Raven to gather her things. Not even for her to steal Sting, which was propped in the Front Hall. She slipped out of the back door, glad that her room was past the kitchen. Bilba was still out and the other dwarrow were in the living and dining room areas, so there was no one to see. The elves were out too so, as long as she avoided the part field's view she should have a clear shot. She avoided the sentries, knowing their places and rotations from listening in. It was all startlingly easy, she thought. Once free, she marched down the North lane, her pack thumping gently against her back, Bilba's sword at her hip.

When Bag End vanished from sight, she slowed a little. Raven felt glad that no hobbits had stopped her, and that she was clear of the dwarrow. Considering what she knew of the area north of Hobbiton, she tried to guess how fast an average hobbit would be. Far slower than her, she guessed. Hobbits after all, were not known for their physical prowess. Their constant need to eat only hampered progress. She eyed the trees, knowing it was foolish to remain on the road in plain sight. Deciding then that the wooded area by the road couldn't be too bad, she dived off road.

She'd only been walking about ten minutes when she stumbled into the trap. The clearing wasn't discernible until she registered Legolas and Estel sitting together. Estel smoked his pipe while Legolas leaned against a tree. Both looked up, watching her with sharp eyes. Raven froze while her friends eyes her.

"Going somewhere?" Estel asked almost casually.

"To help the dwarrow." Raven lifted her chin defiantly.

"And how do you plan to do that?" Legolas asked.

"I'm to report back to Mister Dwalin on the goings on at the dwarrow camp in the North." Raven lied with what she hoped was convincing bravado.

"He asked you to do this?" Estel asked, and although it was not obvious, Raven was fairly certain he was mocking her.

"Why else would I be here?" Raven lied blatantly.

"Because you're bored and running away." Legolas replied. Raven opened her mouth automatically before realizing she had no good retort.

"And because you want to prove yourself." Estel added.

"Are you going to tell?" Raven asked, finally feeling defeated.

"Not necessarily." Legolas replied. "Come sit with us." he abruptly crossed to take a seat by Estel. Raven eyed the two big folk and then walked over, plopping down defeatedly beside them.

"So, how have your studies been?" Estel asked.

"Boring."

"You've been training though right? And leaning Khuzdul." Legolas offered.

"Not since the attack." Raven drew her knees up towards her chest, resting a cheek against her bent limbs as she surveyed the ground. She purposefully avoided their gazes- not quite ready to meet either of the mens' scrutiny.

"Why not?" Legolas frowned.

"Dwalin and the others are too busy." Raven shrugged.

"You like training though?" Estel asked.

"Of course, and Aunty Dís always says that it's my responsibility as a daughter of Durin to protect and aid my people. Being a Princess isn't just about having money or bloodline." Raven replied.

"So you've felt restless and useless then without a way to help." Legolas discerned. Raven nodded, mostly out of sheer surprise.

"Well, what if Legolas and I trained you for a bit?" Estel offered and Raven's head shot up in surprise.

"What do you mean?" she narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

"I am proficient with a blade and Legolas is a good shot. Have you started training with a bow and arrows?" Estel offered.

"I'd like to learn, Kíli said he'd teach me, but he's been busy with Tauriel." the two men exchanged a glance that confused Raven, but none of them commented out loud.

"What if I showed you some elven archer tricks in the meanwhile." Legolas offered and Raven found herself nodding— accepting the elf's distraction.

"Good, then, Estel and I were going to take lunch and then we can return." Legolas said matter-of-factly.

"Go back?" Raven grimaced.

"Well, it would be better to train there, and I am sure that your kin will be worried." Estel said, and Raven hated how reasonable he made the proposal sound.

"I don't want to go back." Raven felt as though she was a small child again.

"Why not?" Legolas inquired.

"Because the dwarrow will find reasons to keep me from training! They want me to be in the smial, to be safe! They refuse to let me train!" Raven exploded.

"We've given you our words though, we can train you, they will attend to their duties and we will train you." Estel pointed out.

"You'll have to leave though, you always do, and I'll be just as stuck. They won't take me seriously, they never do." Raven whispered.

"I am no dwarrow scholar, but I have travelled amongst elves and humans. I understand how they treat their children. Bilba loves you, more than anything else in this world. She also has had to accept that you had to be given independence. She simply didn't have the means to protect you from the world. The dwarrow do have the means. To dwarrow, children are their most precious treasures. Your kin are doing this not because they don't love or trust you, but because they want to protect your innocence. Your childhood is precious to them and they'll preserve it for as long as possible. The lady Dís insists on telling you of your duties. It is not to make you feel guilty, but rather because she wants you to understand your value to their society. You are a hero to the dwarrow as a princess. You are a source of guidance, of protection and compassion. Dwarrowdams are also incredibly rare amongst dwarrow. As both a child and a girl each and every dwarf would give up their lives to protect you without any hesitation." Estel said. Raven listened, aware of all of what he was saying. The dwarrow had repeated such importance time and time again. Still, Raven hated it.

"I'm not like other dwarrow children though! I haven't been raised a princess, but I will be, I just can't give up all of myself! I want to fight, it's who I am. I have always fought for myself, but now I'm not being allowed to fight. I'm being told to hide, to stand back and let others fight my battles for me! I won't let that happen! I won't let others sacrifice themselves for my sake!" Raven burst out.

"No one's asking you to give up yourself," Legolas frowned. "Nor do they think that you are sitting back while they fight for you. What they want, is to help you, to encourage you to grow, to give you that chance to mature."

"Is that what your father told you?" Raven blurted.

"In a roundabout way." the elf admitted. "Give them a chance, Raven,"

"-but what if they don't give me that same chance?" Raven interrupted and the son of Mirkwood fell silent.

"Then you'll have to demand it." Estel interrupted.

"How?" Raven whispered.

"Talk with your father, he would be a good place to start. He's frightened about what's been happening, concerned about your safety. He doesn't want anything to happen to you. If you both talk, you will work something out." Estel asserted.

"I suppose," she knew she had to give in, though she still balked at the idea of going back. Surely, by now, they'd realize she'd run and she'd be in so much trouble.

"Better to get it over with," she wasn't sure if she'd spoken out loud or if Estel had merely guessed her train of thought. Either way she sighed and nodded .

"We'll accompany you," Legolas promised and, together, they headed back towards Hobbiton. They walked in silence at first, but the longer that the trekked for, the more anxious Raven felt. Picking up on her emotions, as he always seemed to do, Legolas asked after her studies. They conversed in Sindarin for the rest of the trip. Raven realized, with some horror, that her skills were getting rusty. Leoglas and Estel both promised to help her so long as they were there. Raven, however, found herself wondering how long they would actually be around for.

* * *

The round green door flew open when they were only part way up the lane.

"Raven!" Bilba flew out. Raven's cheeks burned as she realized the other dwarrow were all crowded around the smial. Raven hugged Bilba back.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "I just needed some space."

"I know, but you can't just go off like that, not while we're facing the threat of attack," Bilba reprimanded gently.

"I know," Raven muttered, feeling as though she were still a tiny babe.

"Raven," she looked over Bilba's shoulder to see Thorin glaring sternly at her. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he seemed even taller than usual.

"Thorin," Bilba herself muttered.

"Not now, Bilba, I need to speak with Raven," Thorin insisted. Bilba looked worriedly back to Raven, but all she could do was nod in resignation.

"We do need to talk," she heard herself say. Thorin nodded, and the other dwarrow retreated back into the smial.

"Thank you, for bringing my daughter home." Thorin said stiffly to Legolas and Estel. Both acknowledged Thorin's thanks and then disappeared back down the hill.

"Can I talk to Da alone?" Raven asked impulsively. Bilba hesitated only for a moment before nodding. She kissed Raven's forehead, and then retreated to the smial. Pausing by Thorin to whisper something to him before father and daughter were left alone.


	27. twenty-six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thorin and Raven have a talk and he reconsiders their future.

** AN:  ** Well, I keep promising to get better about posting... maybe one of these days I will finally get back into a productive rut ;) Anyways, hope you enjoy, I had a lot of fun writing this one (even if it took me forever to get around to editing it!). As always thank you to everyone who reads, leaves kudos and especially to everyone who commented, you make my day! 

 

**FYI:** dialogue in  _italics_  is Sindarin, dialogue in  **bold** is Khuzdul – I admire Tolkien incredibly for creating these languages, but unfortunately I am only versed in English so, for all of our sakes, I am going to cut corners and use English ;) 

* * *

 

_twenty-six_

Thorin

* * *

 

 

** _Bag End, Hobbiton_ **

 

** 11 January 2959 **

 

“Remember what we talked about,” that was what Bilba had warned him before slipping inside of the smial. Thorin regarded the girl before him: his daughter. She only looked about twelve, thirteen perhaps now that she wasn’t so slight. Still, there was a determination in her gaze that he recognized. She truly was a frightening blend of himself and Bilba. They were both far too stubborn for their own good and, intentionally or not, so was their daughter.

 

“Come,” Raven nodded her head away from the smial and their unseen observers. Thorin nodded, and followed after her. She walked with a surety that he was unsure if he’d had at her age. It was something, Thorin realized with a start, he also admired about her. Raven might be impulsive, but she exuded an air of certainty. She was startlingly capable for a youth her age, she knew what she wanted, and she wouldn’t stop working until she got it. He had once been filled with a similar burning energy. Now, it had abated, but the more that he reflected on Raven’s actions the more he saw himself in his daughter.

 

They walked down to the now-deserted party field and Raven led him over to the swinging bench. A bare bush loomed over it, offering them the illusion of privacy.

 

“What did Ma tell you?” Raven began without preamble, taking Thorin once more by surprise.

 

“She explained to me a little bit more about what life was like at the smial.” Thorin heard himself answer before he had time to think about her question. Raven eyed him, obviously waiting for a further explanation. “She explained that you are used to being independent. She also suggested that, perhaps, you would feel happier with more responsibilities?” Thorin elaborated. Raven snorted softly in a wry amusement and Thorin waited for her response. 

 

It was a while in coming, but finally Raven spoke. “Ma and Aunt Primula knew about tending to the fields, but I was stronger than either of them. It’s the dwarrow blood I suppose and when it came to hunting and trapping? Ma would do it if she had to, but when I was twelve I volunteered to do it, and she allowed me. They never over worked me, they wanted me to have a childhood. We were short on hands, however, and we all needed to pitch in to survive. It was that simple. I’m sixteen now, halfway to my hobbit coming of age, and old enough to handle myself. I haven’t thought of myself as someone to be coddled, not for years, and I don’t want to be now.” Raven seemed to steel herself and then looked up, meeting Thorin’s gaze. “Ma’s right. I would be happier with more responsibilities because that’s what I’m used to. I don’t want to be treated as a child. It makes me feel useless.” Raven dropped his gaze and Thorin felt a pang of understanding. She might not realize it, but Raven was essentially echoing his own words. Thráin had once tried to keep him back, protected from the atrocities of battle. Thorin had refused to be left behind. Ultimately, he had been part of the great campaign and ultimately the hero of the war. 

 

“If we’d stayed here," Raven continued, drawing Thorin back to the present, "if I’d grown up in Bag End? Maybe things would have been different, but I didn’t. Being trapped inside, told I can’t defend myself, that I can’t help people I lo-“ she paused abruptly. “People I care about,” she corrected herself and Thorin fought a wince at the wording. “If I can’t help them? Well then, what good  _am_  I?” she ended quietly. Thorin reached out, drawing her to him. At first, she remained stiff, but then she melted into his side.

 

“It has never been my intention to make you feel trapped,” he acknowledged after a pause. “I know that you want to help, that you want to defend yourself, but it’s in my nature to defend those whom I love. Bilba, I know, can attest to how we dwarrow can be overprotective. It’s simply part of our nature,” Thorin shrugged helplessly.

 

“I know, and I'm still a child and a daughter of Durin's line,” Raven drew back just far enough to look up at him with wide blue eyes. Thorin stared back down into the gaze that was identical to his. “I know that makes you want to protect me even more,” Raven said softly. “But,” she paused, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. “I don’t think I can be that daughter.” She dropped his gaze, but not before he caught the shimmer of tears in her gaze.

 

“Raven,” he reached out, feeling a flare of panic. It was his worst nightmare to hear those words. It felt as though he had failed as a father. He was supposed to protect them, to give them a happy life and ensure that his children knew just how much he loved them. He had made that mistake before, with the boys, he had been too demanding. This time, he had tried his best to protect Raven, but instead he had been pushing her away without even knowing it. 

 

“Raven,” he croaked, standing and then kneeling in front of his daughter in one fluid motion. “No matter who you are, what you do, I love you. I never even imagined I might be blessed with a daughter. Learning about you, was the best day of my life. To have a daughter, to know that Bilba was alive, that you were both alive and well? I would have gladly made any sacrifice that Mahal demanded to be so blessed. If there is someone here who is in the wrong, it is I. I should never have expected you to be someone else. I don’t want you to be anyone other than yourself.” he took her two, much smaller, hands in his. “Perhaps, we might try this again?” he asked, thinking about the bright-eyed daring girl he had first met. He berated himself for not recognizing the changes in her personality. She had been suffering and he had not realized. Worse, he had been the cause of it. “Whoever you have been, whoever you are, and whoever you will become I will always be proud to be your father.” he vowed to her.

 

“I just wanted to help,” she whispered, shyly meeting his gaze. “I thought I could by finding out that information.” 

 

“I will send someone to investigate,” Thorin said. “It was good information you gave us, valuable. I was simply too afraid for your safety earlier so, I did not care to listen to what you had to say.”

 

“I want to train too.” Raven seemed to gain confidence.

 

“I know,” Thorin knew he’d have to make another concession. He knew that Raven had been wrong, but now was not the time to yell at her. If he scolded her like some errant child it would only serve to push her away further.

 

“So, will you let me?” Raven demanded.

 

“I will, but you have to promise me you won’t be so reckless again.” Thorin held Raven’s gaze.

 

“You want to know one way to keep me from doing stupid stuff? Let me know what’s happening.” Thorin found himself smiling in spite of himself. Raven might remind him of himself but, there was an undeniable amount of Bilba in their daughter.

 

“Fine, I will speak with your mother and, together, we will decide how involved you may be.” Thorin said.

 

“Agreed.” Raven nodded and then paused.

 

“You have another question?” Thorin guessed.

 

“What happened to Lotho?” Raven demanded and Thorin barely withheld a wince.

 

“We punished him,” Thorin tried and Raven frowned.

 

“I know, the hobbits were talking about it. How did you punish him?” she demanded. Thorin eyed her. The determination in her gaze and the tilt of her chin, he knew that she wouldn’t stop until she had her answer.

 

“We executed him.” he answered honestly. Raven’s eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise, though she hid her reaction well.

 

“For trying to hurt me?” she asked and Thorin nodded.

“We dwarrow take such attacks very seriously. We released the other hobbits after we punished them accordingly. It was clear to usthat Lotho was responsible for masterminding the plan. He lead the attack so, we could not pardon him.” Thorin said. 

 

“But then, doesn’t that make me guilty of his death?” Raven whispered.

 

“No!” Thorin immediately insisted. “What happened to him was not your fault, just like it was not your fault that he chose to attack you. What he did he alone is responsible for. His thoughts, his planning, his actions. We have seen that behavior before. We know better than to think that Lotho would have repented. Some few learn from mistakes of that scale. Far more individuals like his companions are drawn down that path. Occasionally, they may overcome their past, but we all knew better than to give Lotho that chance. He would never be able to move past his cruelty. He would always have sought to harm you and Bilba. We would not stand for that so, yes, we took his life. But, Raven, it was I who swung the blade, and thus it is I who is responsible for his fate. Not you.” Thorin tried to explain. 

 

Thorin knew that Nori would take care of the other hobbits. They would not live to see the fall, but Nori was good at keeping things quiet. If any hobbit even bothered to investigate then they would assume a tragic accident or a sucide. Either way, they would never again seek to harm his family. Still, in spite of his recent vow, Raven didn’t need to know that much. Already, he was worried that telling her about Lotho was too much. 

 

“Those kinds of decisions, that’s what it means to be King isn’t it?” she asked quietly.

 

“It is.” he agreed.

 

“Will I have to make those decisions?” she whispered. “I know that Fíli’s your heir, but,” she trailed off. Thorin smiled gently at her, reaching up and brushing her long black hair back behind her ear.

 

“You will make whichever decisions you want to make. Things like that, however, won’t be your responsibility. At least, not for many years to come if you don’t want to deal with them.” Thorin promised. Raven smiled.

 

“I think I like the sound of that,” she admitted and he smiled. Raven patted the bench beside her, and Thorin rose from the cold ground, moving to sit beside her. For a long while after they sat in silence, side by side, looking out over the edges of hobbiton. Thorin enjoyed the time with her as she quietly burrowed in to his side. He wrapped an arm around his daughter and reflected that being a father certainly wasn’t easy.

 

* * *

 

Eventually, the rumbling of Raven’s stomach became loud enough for Thorin to pick up on. He rose, and guided her back to the smial. Bilba emerged alone, watching the two of them as they climbed the hill.

 

“I’m sorry, Ma,” Raven said. Thorin hadn’t prompted his daughter to apologize, but he was glad nevertheless that she did. Raven kissed Bilba’s cheek and slipped inside, murmuring something about freshening up. Thorin found himself alone outside with Bilba.

 

“Well?” she asked expectantly.

 

“We talked,” Thorin replied.

 

“About?” Bilba narrowed her eyes, and Thorin had to quickly hide a grin. Raven assumed the exact same expression when she was suspicious. He supposed that it figured that mother and daughter would share the trait.

 

“I’ve agreed that she can continue to train.” he replied. Bilba raised an eyebrow. “And, I will keep her better informed and, in exchange, she will be more responsible in future.”  

 

“She’s only sixteen, how responsible do you think she’ll be?” Bilba frowned and Thorin felt a niggling of doubt.

 

“If I’d been hard on her then I would only have pushed her away,” he insisted.

 

“Perhaps,” Bilba replied. She shook her head at him, though he caught a hint of the smile she was trying so desperately to hide.

 

“You told me not to go hard on her, you said I was pushing her away!” Thorin protested, though there was no real anger behind his words.

 

“I did, but I didn’t expect that she’d have you wrapped around her little finger this badly!” Bilba retorted and Thorin let out an over-dramatical sigh. Every time that he played this scenario he managed to lose somehow. One way it was caving to Raven’s demands and over-spoiling his daughter. On the other hand, he somehow managing to disappoint Bilba. Thorin sighed again and shook his head. Bilba in turn laughed.

 

“She’s got that way about her,” she reached out and set a warm hand on his arm. “Don’t worry over much, she’s wild and head-strong and Primula and I gave up a long time ago trying to fight her. She’s got Durin’s blood in her that one, she doesn’t bend. She might break, but even that takes a lot and, mostly, we give up the effort before then.” 

 

“I’m afraid I’m not a very good father.” The words spilled out. Thorin thought he put a positive spin on them, but they sounded weak even to his own ears. Bilba frowned, the mirth fading from her expression. 

 

“What do you mean?” he let her guide him to the little bench by the fence. 

 

They sat down side-by-side and she entwined her hands about his. She was so delicate compared to him, he thought. For an awful moment, he remembered the feeling of wrapping his hands about her neck. She was so fragile and he felt he didn’t deserved her love– not after what he’d done. The responsibility of guiding their daughter to adulthood? That was just another chance for him to mess up. 

 

“Thorin?” Bilba asked quietly and he looked over at her, feeling another stab of guilt as he read the worry in her gaze. He offered her a smile and reached over to cup her cheek. She leaned into his touch, seeming to take reassurance from it.

 

“I just mean, I don’t deserve either of you. I have made so many mistakes and I still don’t know what I’m doing. I am afraid that I will not do right by you.” Thorin blurted and, to his surprise, Bilba laughed. He regarded her, hoping that he wasn’t pouting– or otherwise imitating his younger nephew. The look of wry amusement that filled Bilba’s features suggested that he had indeed failed.

 

“Has anyone ever told you that you look like-“ she began. Impulsively, he leaned over and kissed her. Bilba melted into his embrace, kissing him back enthusiastically. He deepened the kiss and might have continued if not for the door to Bag End opening.

 

“Brother,” Dís’s sharp reprimand cut across the front yard. Reluctantly, Thorin pulled back. “My niece is hungry and wanting to know where her parents are. For some reason, also, we can’t start eating until you are both inside at the table.” Dís said firmly. Thorin fought a blush as his baby sister fixed him with a knowing gaze.

 

“Of course, I’m sorry, Dís!” Bilba, her cheeks pink and her lips a brighter shade of red, stood and hurried back towards the smial. 

 

She was still not used to being chaperoned. Before, on the quest, the Company had decided to tactfully ignore their courtship. Thorin had heard more than one whisper. They had let him know that he was less than successful at hiding their courtship. Bilba had likely been in denial because they were by no means discrete. That was no longer the case. Since he was King now and their courtship was official they had to be properly chaperoned. Thorin privately thought Dís was having too much fun interrupting his moments with Bilba. Even if she was, however, he had to admit it was likely fair retribution for the way that he had once watched Víli like a hawk. 

 

Thorin also rose and followed Bilba inside, though at a much more respectable pace. He was not some young dwarf to be shamed by his love for his One. Dís fixed him with a knowing stare.

 

“You could have waited a few minutes longer, sister,” he admonished.

 

“Waited?” Dís pretended to be shocked by his accusation though her eyes were dancing with amusement. “You better be glad I didn’t send the boys out to fetch you.” Thorin shuddered at that prospect. Fíli and Kíli had interrupted him and Bilba more than once– by accident. He didn’t fancy them doing so again with their mother’s endorsement.

 

“I suppose we’ll have to start watching out for Fíli.” Thorin commented. He and Dís exchanged a glance, both remembering the way his eldest nephew had been regarding the young healer– Sórin. Dís eyes lit up and a smile filled her features.

 

“It’s about time,” she acknowledged and Thorin shot his sister a glance. 

 

“We both knew that the right dwarf had to come along. I’ve liked Sórin from the start, but Fíli’s simply been too busy to notice when I set the healer in his path. At least Sórin was faster on the uptake, he’s noticed Fíli from the start.” Dís shook her head at her son’s obliviousness.

 

“You are quite the schemer,” Thorin acknowledged, to which Dís beamed.

 

“And, I’ll be glad to give that daughter of yours some lessons,” she added.

 

“I’m sure you will pass you skils on to my daughter and any other children born to our family.” Thorin smiled while Dís fought to keep her grin in place. “The elf’s made Kíli very happy, even you have to agree to that, and he could have ended up with much worse. I actually find I rather like Tauriel’s company,” Thorin admonished gently while Dís scowled. To say that he and Tauriel were friends would be pushing it, but she was a good warrior and he knew how much she cared for Kíli.

 

“A half-elf as a grandchild,” Dís murmured. “I never thought I’d see the day.”

 

“Neither did I, but they’re right for each other. You know as well as I that we will both love that child as much as if he or she was a full-blooded dwarf.” Thorin reflected and Dís scoffed at his side.

 

“For you to even imply that I wouldn’t love that child!” she scowled and then reached out and punched his arm. “You know I never care about that, it’s never bothered me that Tauriel is an elf or Bilba a hobbit. Race and gender don’t matter so long as your Ones all make you happy. My trouble with Tauriel has simply been a worry that she cannot adequately support Kíli. If he’d chosen a dwarf oblivious to his responsibilities then I would feel the same about him or her!” Thorin smiled. He knew his sister. She spoke the truth, it was not Tuariel’s elvish heritage, not really, that upset her. It was the cultural differences between the elf and Kíli. In the end, so long as they proved that such things didn’t matter, Dís would accept Tauriel. It was just in her mothering instincts to want to find someone who could keep looking out for Kíli. 

 

“You’re going to have to admit that you like her one day,” Thorin noted, but Dís’s frown deepened. 

 

Once she gave approval she wouldn’t take it back, but getting to that point was the true challenge. Privately, Thorin was glad that Bilba had never had to prove herself. Of course, saving his life, Dís’s sons’ lives, and being the general heroine of the Company had helped. It was only a matter of time before his sister caved and admitted that she respected, even liked, Tauriel. 

 

“Not a word,” Dís seemed to read his train of thought and Thorin smiled, raising his hands in a would-be innocent gesture. 

 

* * *

 

The meal had a cheerful overtone. Raven finally seemed happier. Thorin suspected that he was not the only one listening to Bilba’s rant earlier either. She had lectured him, and by extent the rest of the Company about being too overprotective. Doing so would, apparently, drive Raven away. True, the others had made themselves scarce, but they were still present. 

 

At the table, Fíli and Kíli sat on either side of their cousin. Tauriel and Sórin seated on their other sides, though Raven was clearly the center of their attention. Thorin’s nephews regaled her with stories of trouble that they’d been in before while Raven laughed. Dwalin was watching them like a hawk, but had also apparently calmed down. When they had all first learned that Raven was missing there had been utter chaos. Dwalin had been ready to leave at once to seek her out. Tauriel had quietly disappeared, ignoring the loud debate in favor of action. Later, Thorin would have to thank her. The elf had returned shortly before Raven had arrived. She had quietly reported that Raven was safe. The relief that had washed through Thorin had been so great that he had nearly been stirred tears. Bilba had wiped at her eyes, and more than one other dwarf had given an audible sound of relief.

 

Seated beside Bilba, across from Raven, Thorin took the chance to watch not only Raven but also Bilba. Throughout his return he’d focused on their relationship– on proving to her that he was sorry. Now, thinking about his conversation with Raven, he worried that he’d been ignoring Bilba’s fears. She had accepted him back into her life as her One, and for that he was excited. They had resumed their courtship as well, but he didn't know what Bilba’s thoughts were on becoming Queen? Thorin fought the urge to run a hand roughly through his hair. Attention might be on Raven, but he was nevertheless under scrutiny.

 

The meal continued, a strange sort of celebration, in the midst of their training and war threat. Under the table, Thorin reached for Bilba’s hand. Gently, he squeezed her palm she turned to look at him, a silent question in her features.

 

“I’d like to talk,” he murmured out of the corner of his mouth. Her frown deepened, but she nevertheless agreed with a little nod. A few minutes later, she gathered a few plates and slipped out of the room. Thorin waited at the table, accidentally catching Balin’s eye. He shook his head at the silent query from his most trusted advisor, then likewise slipped out. To his relief, no one followed him.

 

* * *

 

“What did you want to talk about?” Bilba asked quietly. The noise from the neighboring room almost drowned out her words. 

 

Thorin took a moment, surveying her as she stood across from him. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she regarded him. Her expression was caught halfway between a glare and outright worry. Her hazel eyes bored into his, and her left foot tapped lightly in impatience. In that moment, in spite of her simple cotton dress, he saw his Queen Under the Mountain. She needed no throne, no gowns, nor any other accessories that usually denoted royalty. This was Bilba. She had a spark that inspired others around her, a stalwart determination to match  

 

Thorin stepped forward and cupped her face, gently leaning down to kiss her. Bilba leaned into his touch, kissing him back. When he drew away, she smiled serenely at him.

 

“Thorin,” she murmured, but he brushed a finger over her lips, silencing her.

 

“I need to know something, Bilba,” he murmured and she frowned slightly, “What do you want?” He asked.

 

“What do you mean?” She breathed.

 

“I am King under the Mountain, I have duties and expectations, but is that what you truly want? I have begun to offer you and Raven a new life, but I have yet to ask you if it is even a life you want.” He replied and he saw her face freeze. His heart seemed to jump, as he regarded her with worry. 

 

“I left after the Battle because I couldn’t imagine facing Erebor again. The only memories I have of the Mountain are of Smaug, the desolation, and the gold sickness. I won’t lie, Thorin, they’re not pleasant recollections. Still, having you come here, to Raven and I? Having you want us and be ready to name me your queen? I fantasized for years about the chance to be with you once more. Am I certain I want to be queen? Do I think I will be a good queen? Do I even understand what the honour is? I don’t even know Khuzdul, let alone the age-old intricacies of dwarrow government. So, to answer your question? I don’t know what I want. I don’t even think I understand what you’re offering, but what I do know? I want to be with you and being with you means being Erebor’s Queen so I will do my best.” Bilba lifted her chin in resolve.

 

“ _Ghivashel_ ,” Thorin breathed, feeling his gaze soften further. 

 

“I mean it, Thorin, and I think I’ve at east earned the right for you to take me seriously when I say that I will stand at your side.” Bilba glared and he smiled.

 

“I trust your word. I know more than most the lengths that you will go for me, and for those you decide to fight for, but that’s not what I’m asking. I know that you will answer if I ask it of you, but what if I offered to stay here, to make this smial our fortress, for our family?” Thorin asked. 

 

Part of him felt that it was wrong to even propose such a thing. He had been born Prince of Erebor; he had always,  _always_ , known that he would one day rule the Mountain. Here, he was offering to give it all up after his mission to regain it had cost lives. Many, many, lives. Bilba stared at him, her eyes going wide.

 

“Thorin,” she gasped. “You can’t,” she protested. “We fought for Erebor, we fought to take back  _your_  kingdom!” her tone increased and her hands settled on her hips as she glared.

 

“You know what I meant by it,  _Ghivashel,_ ” he tried to placate her and she lifted an eyebrow in skepticism.

 

“Do I?” she bit out.

 

“I want us to be happy,  _us,_ ” he implored. “Raven and I spoke, and she expressed concerns about our future. I realized that while I was born to this life neither of you grew up with it. It’s unfair of me to expect you to both embrace it. Furthermore, Fíli is capable and if you preferred, I would abdicate. I’ve already won my people their home, I can leave now, proud of what I accomplished, to devote my time to my family.”

 

To his surprise, Bilba burst into tears. Thorin regarded her; she never cried.  _Never_. At least, not that he remembered. She’d had a few emotional moments before on the quest, but this was different. He stepped forward, drawing her to him and she leaned against him. When her breathing evened out, she drew back, squaring her shoulders in determination.

 

“I will talk with Raven,” Bilba announced. “And, we won’t underestimate what this offer means.” she said, then wiped at her eyes and disappeared. Thorin sagged against the counter.

 

“ **Tell me you did** _not_ **just offer to give up the throne,** ” Thorin turned to see Dís approaching him and sagged even more. Of course she’d been listening and she looked none-too-happy at what she’d heard. “ **I finally have some idea of what it means to have my family back together again. Happiness is an attainable dream, not some far-fetched fantasy and you offer to give it all up?** ” The noise from the connected dinning room stopped suddenly. The dwarrow, realizing that Dís was shouting in Khuzdul, resumed their conversation. They already knew from experience that in spite of the volume what she was saying would be private.Pretended privacy or not though, it wouldn’t take them long now to grow suspicious.  _At least,_  Thorin reflected, _Bilba can’t understand what she’s yelling about._ Dís continued to lay into him, ancient dwarrow threats rolling off her tongue with practiced ease.

 

From the doorway, behind Dís, Balin and Dwalin appeared. The first seemed more interested in what Dís had to say and was glaring somewhat reproachfully at Thorin. The latter was cracking his knuckles, apparently ready to defend his king if need be. Or, perhaps, on second thought it would be to lay into him as well. 

 

“ **Don’t you ever think before you act, laddie?** ” when Dís had finally run out of breath Balin spoke up. Dís turned and acknowledged the advisor while Thorin could only shrug. He regretted the chaos it could entail for his people, especially after they'd fought for him. But, did he regret the offer? Did he ever for one moment not intend to follow through if that was what would make Bilba and Raven happiest? Never.

 

“ **Tell me, what are we going to do about those dwarrow my daughter tried to track down?** ” he changed the subject instead. Balin shook his head disapprovingly in his direction, but took a seat on a kitchen stool. They were used to conducting business in the strangest of places. Thorin feared that if they moved to the study they might make Bilba feel like they were following her.

 

“ **The elves have gone to scout it out.** ” Dwalin replied while he, Dís, and Thorin all took their own seats. Even if he might abdicate, Thorin owed it to his people and to Fíli to end this insurgence before he took his leave.


	28. twenty-seven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven and Bilba discuss their future, Bilba tells Thorin about the real Riddles in the Dark, and a decision is made about whether or not to return to Erebor.

**AN:** Surprise! Here's another chapter! :) I was on vacation, so I finally had a good chance to write :) Hoping that if the chapters are a little bit shorter I can get more writing done, but we'll have to see... I'm back home and back to work now so fingers are crossed! Thank you to all who read, and left kudos and comments! Let me know what you think of this! :) 

* * *

 

twenty-seven

 

Bilba

 

_Bag End, Hobbiton_

_11 January 2959_

 

Bilba paced around the small study, toying with the soft fabric of her simple dress. She wound about in tight circles– her mind spinning wildly. She was trying to process Thorin's offer, however, it was hard to know where to begin. Since their first meeting he had been so set on reclaiming his throne. Even amongst the Company he had commanded respect without question. They had all felt like her family by the end, but no matter how close they’d all become Thorin had been their King. Each member of the Company would have given their lives for Thorin because he was their King. Even Bilba would have died for him and she had only just met him. Commanding that kind of loyalty wasn’t easy and yet he was willing to give it all up– his birthright.

 

Bilba let out a long breath. She knew that she should return, find Raven and talk with her, but she still didn’t know what to make of it herself.  _Just another minute,_  she thought as she sank into her chair. It was her old chair, and she remembered spending many an hour in it reading books, writing letters, and so forth. It was an odd familiarity. She could almost imagine that the Quest hadn’t taken place. Almost.

 

Before she left Bag End she was sure she would have asked Thorin to abdicate. The mere thought of becoming Queen? Of having to assume responsibility for a people who spoke a language she didn’t know? With expectations she couldn’t even begin to guess about? It was all daunting to say the least. After seeing what Thorin meant to the Company, she couldn’t possibly ask that of him. He had offered it but, even if he meant it, Thorin had been born to be the King of his people. It was true, Fíli had grown up, he might be ready to assume the throne if need be, but Thorin would never be happy here in the Shire. 

 

Bilba was barely happy in the Shire now. She’d had a taste of the wider world, had gone on an adventure, and thus she knew that life in the Shire was mundane. She craved something more. Living at the smial was miserable because she always feared for Raven's survival.  _Still, it was better,_  she thought,  _than living here._ Life at Bag End never changed. She had been accepted back into society. It was what she thought she wanted. Hosting and going to teas, discussing dresses, and gossiping at length day in and day out was no longer her thing. 

 

Bilba’s eyes snapped open. She didn’t remember closing them, but she knew then what she had to do. She might not know what it was to be a Queen, but Dís would help her and she wanted to return to Erebor. It would be facing her fear to return to where everything had gone so horribly wrong before. Some nights she still had nightmares about dangling over the balustrade. On occasion shewould think she heard Thorin's gold-crazed roar. This, might be her her happily ever after– hopefully. 

 

_Happily ever after, is that even a thing?_  she mused before she could stop herself. As though it had read her mind, a weight dragged down her pocket. The Ring. She had insisted on taking it with her from Rivendell. Lord Elrond had counseled against it. He had not had a better idea save to leave it under guard in Rivendell– which hardly seemed any safer. Bilba slipped a hand in her pocket, as another realization made a pit in her chest. She’d have to tell Thorin about the Ring. It wouldn’t be fair to bring such a danger into Erebor. If Elrond was to be believed, then she would have to destroy it as soon as possible. Unfortunately, there was only one place she could go to do that: Mordor. 

 

The very name of the land caused a shiver to run through her. She never wanted to travel there, but if it would mean the end of evil who was she to say no? If she was making Middle Earth safer for Raven and Thorin? Didn't that make her decision all the more imperative? She had to act– she had to protect her family, even if it meant her life.

 

* * *

 

_First things first,_  Bilba decided. She would have to speak to Raven and decide what to do with regard to going back to Erebor before she could act.

 

“Ma?” Bilba had only needed to appear in the corner of the living room before Raven rose and looked in her direction.

 

“Can I talk to you?” Bilba asked, hoping that she didn’t sound upset. Raven frowned slightly in nerves, but nodded and followed her into the study.

 

“What’s wrong?” Raven asked her.

 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Bilba hurried to insist. “I just, I wanted to talk to you about our future.” Bilba tired to explain.

 

“Our future?” Raven echoed nervously. “Aren’t we going with P–“ Raven cut herself off.

 

“With Pa,” Bilba insisted, “you can say it.” 

 

“Okay, with Pa then, to Erebor?” Raven finished.

 

“We certainly could, but by no means do we have to do that.” Bilba offered.

 

“What do you mean?” Raven asked carefully.

 

“Well, we are welcome to go to Erebor, however, we don’t have to go if we don’t want to.” Bilba said carefully. 

 

“But why wouldn’t we?” Raven asked, frowning.

 

“Well, in case we didn’t want to.” Bilba replied. “We’re back in Bag End now, we don’t have the same worries that we had before.”

 

“I know, we have food now and clothes, you have your inheritance back, but we still don’t have a family.” Raven murmured and Bilba froze. What Raven said was true. They could survive, but it wasn’t exactly a happy existence. Especially if the dwarrow left it would be lonely. Even if Thorin stayed they would still be isolated and did they really fit into life in Hobbiton? Bilba read the truth in Raven’s gaze and knew that it was reflected in her own.

 

“Are you sure?” she asked her daughter solemnly.

 

“I want to try at least.” Raven replied. “And, I think he wants us to try too.” she added in barely a whisper. Bilba smiled and reached forward, hugging her daughter to her.

 

“I think he wants that too.” she agreed.

 

* * *

 

 

Thorin entered the room several minutes later. He had tactfully given them space to talk, and Raven had volunteered to go find him.

 

“Bilba,” he greeted her almost carefully.

 

“We’ve had a chance to talk,” Bilba said cautiously. She met his gaze, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Raven take his hand– as though afraid that he would disappear.

 

“I see,” Thorin acknowledged in a cautiously neutral tone of voice. Hearing it made Bilba feel uncomfortable. It was, she realized, as though she was speaking to His Majesty, King Thorin Under the Mountain.  _This is why he has to know,_  she reminded herself. After all, it wasn't just her Thorin Oakenshield, her One, who she was proposing a life with. He might be all that, but he also had duties– obligations to the rest of his people. Bilba took a deep breath, steadying her resolve. Then, she nodded towards Raven– as they had previously agreed.

 

“We’ll come with you to Erebor. It’s what we want, we’ve already discussed it and we know that we want to be with you.” Bilba had decided to give Raven the honor of telling him the good news. For a moment, Bilba watched as Thorin processed their daughter’s words. His gaze met hersand she offered him a reassuring smile.

 

“I promise I will do everything in my power to ensure you don’t regret that decision.” Thorin murmured, a grin breaking across his features as he hugged Raven to him. 

 

Bilba watched as her daughter hugged him back and felt her chest swell. It was true what Raven had said earlier. They had what they needed to survive in Hobbiton, but they would never be happy. The reason for that?They would never have a family– at least not a family in the true sense. Raven belonged with her father, that much was crystal clear from their tender embrace. Of course, that was also ignoring the simple fact that Bilba never wanted him to leave either. She had always missed the Company, especially Thorin. Since she’d had them back, however, she'd realized just how much she needed them in her life.  _Just like the first time that they came into my life,_  she reflected.  _I hadn’t realized how much I needed them then either,_  she admonished herself.

 

“ _Ghivashel,_ ” Thorin murmured. Bilba came back to herself. While she had been lost in her thoughts, Raven had slipped from the room.

 

“Raven,” she began, thinking she should see her daughter to bed.

 

“She’s fine,” Thorin replied, moving closer to her. “ _Ghivashel,_ ” he repeated.

 

“We still need to talk.” she blurted and he paused for a moment. "We want to go with you, but before we can finalize any arrangements, you and I need to talk." she continued.

 

“I see,” Thorin repeated his cautious acknowledgement from before. She watched as the joy in his gaze faded to a wary curiosity. 

 

“It's not because I don't want to go back to Erebor, Thorin. I fought for that Kingdom with you. I think we'd all be happy there. However, there is one thing that you need to know before you agree to have us.” It wasn’t an easy confession, but she’d already made her decision. Thorin had to know– it was only fair.

 

“ _Ghivashel,_  nothing can change the fact that I want you and Raven at my side. You are my  _queen_ , my  _One,_  I will never,  _never_ , want to have you anywhere but at my side in our home in Erebor.” he stepped forward, cupping her cheek and for a moment she wanted to give in and abandon her task. She almost did.

 

“I still need to tell you, Thorin,” Bilba insisted.

 

“Very well,” he agreed. Though, he took a step back and a moment later she had the feeling that once more she was addressing the King of Erebor.

 

“It all began in the Misty Mountains,” Bilba began. “When we fell into Goblin Town, I was separated as you know. Things, however, didn't exactly happen way that I told you." The confession fell from her lips. She was glad that it kept going because the glower that Thorin fixed her with would have frozen most people.

 

* * *

 

 

When she finally finished, she let the rest of her breath out in the suddenly-silent room and waited. Thorin said nothing and the silence stretched longer. Bilba knotted her hands in her dress. The clock chimed in the hall and Bilba swallowed hard as she let the fabric fall from her fingers.

 

“I suppose I’ll just go,” Bilba whispered. “You can tell everyone else whatever you want, I’ll go along with it,” she hurried as she all but ran for the door. Her eyes stung with tears that she refused to shed in front of him. She should have known that he would react this way.  _He is a King, he has a kingdom to look out for after all!_  Of course, he had every right to want her as far from him as possible but it still hurt.

 

“Bilba,” a hand on her arm made her freeze though she didn’t turn around– she couldn’t.

 

“What do you want?” she forced herself to ask, her voice carefully neutral though a silent tear leaked down her cheek.

 

“Will you look at me,  _Ghivashel?_ ” he murmured and she tensed. When he tugged lightly on her arm, however, she felt herself turning to face him. He let out a sharp exhale when he noticed the tears that had slid from the corners of her eyes.

 

“What did you want, Thorin?” she asked again, trying to keep her emotions in check. When he reached forward and pulled her to his chest, however, it was like a dam had burst. Bilba broke into tears, clinging to him.

 

“I never meant for you to leave,  _Ghivashel,_  I’m sorry, I was lost in thought. I know, this changes things, it is dangerous, but in no way does it make me want you at my side any less. You are my queen, Bilba Belladonna Baggins, and I will have no other.” he promised, his warm breath ghosting over her sensitive ears. She drew back and leaned up to kiss him. He kissed her back just as passionately.

 

* * *

 

 

They lay together by the fireplace in the study a while longer. Bilba buried her face in his chest as she thought about what they had just done. Certainly, they’d had similar romps before on the Quest, but for some reason this felt different.

 

“If Dís found out, she’d skin us alive,” she reflected out loud and Thorin’s chest vibrated softly as he chuckled. 

 

“Well, it  _would_  be better if she didn’t find out,” he agreed, kissing her temple.

 

“But we also have greater things to worry about,” she murmured, feeling him stiffen.

 

“You don’t need to worry about that,  _Ghivashel,_ ” he insisted, kissing her again.

 

“Thorin,” she pulled from his embrace, fixing him with a determined glare. “You  _know_  I can’t forget this! It’s my mistake and my burden to bear. I have,according to Lord Elrond, done well. I can't entrust this to anyone else, it’s too dangerous and that makes it my problem.” she reasoned.

 

“You’ve already been in far too much danger,  _Ghivashel,_ ” he objected.

 

“ _We_  have already been in far too much danger,” she corrected. “But, we’ve also survived.  _I_  have also survived and you have to trust in that, Thorin. I can handle myself.”

 

“I don’t like it,” he grumbled, and she knew that she had won.

 

“Neither do I, but it is what it is,” Bilba tried to soothe him, reaching up and gently stroking his beard. Thorin let out a low groan, and she hid a smile. Just like her ears were her weakness, when she tangled her fingers in his beard he was equally responsive. 

 

“You’re distracting me,” he growled. His fingers gently wrapped around her much thinner wrists, pulling her away. Bilba shot him her best  _who, me?_  look and he shot her a teasing glare.

 

“I have to go back to Rivendell and speak with Lord Elrond. Whatever we decide, I have to be a part of it.” she finally spoke aloud. He sighed again, rubbing gentle circles on the back of her hand with his calloused thumbs.

 

“You never can help yourself, can you?” he replied and she knew she’d won.

 

“Never,” she replied with a little shrug.

 

“Then, we’ll face whatever the elf lord has to throw at us together.” he decided.

 

“What do you mean?” she blinked in confusion.

 

“Exactly what I said.” Thorin replied firmly. “Whatever the future holds? We’ll face it together.”

 

“Then we’ll make for Rivendell come the spring?” Bilba asked softly.

 

“As soon as the weather gets better." Thorin promised. She drew back slightly, locking her gaze with his as she registered the strange note in his voice.

 

“You’re worried that there will be an attack while we’re still in the Shire?” she questioned.

 

“It’s always a possibility,” he shrugged. “Given what you’ve just told me, it seems all the more likely that there  _will_  be an attack.”

 

“So then we have to leave,” Bilba murmured, dropping his gaze. “Why did you ever offer to stay in the Shire?”

 

“Because I would have made it safe if it would have made you happy. Bilba, I have been the King of Erebor. I was their Prince in exile and I have been their King for over a sixteen years. What I want  _now_  is to be with my family. What I want,  _Ghivashel,_ ” he moved closer, cupping her face, “is to be with you and Raven.” She leaned into him, nestling against his side.

 

“So, we’ll leave as soon as the weather isn’t so prohibitive.” Bilba said softly.

 

“We could wait for spring,” Thorin offered quietly.

 

“But that would make it more dangerous. If anyone was expecting us to be traveling it would be then. They won’t be ready for us in the winter.” Bilba decided.

 

“Very well, we’ll be ready when you are.” Thorin agreed.

 

They fell back into a comfortable silence. For a moment, Bilba could almost forget the years that had elapsed since Thorin had last held her like that. She smiled contentedly and let her eyes drift closed. She was warm, happy and safe,  _what else could possibly matter?_

 

* * *

 

 

A harsh knock sounded at the door and Bilba started awake. In a moment of panic, she was aware of Thorin rolling up, a dirk in his hand as he eyed the door.

 

“Thorin?  **Nadad**?” Bilba let out a bleat of terror as she heard Dís voice on the other side of the door. 

 

Thorin, however, didn’t hesitate, barking out a sharp reply in Khuzdul while waving at Bilba to be quiet. At the same time, they both began scrambling for their clothes.

 

“ **Nadad!** ” Dís’s voice raised and the knocking resumed– twice as loud.

 

“What’s with all the racket?” Bilba’s ears felt like they were on fire as she heard the sound of the rest of the Company began echoing through the hall. Not long after, Dwalin’s fists joined the other cacophony and, suddenly, the door burst open. Bilba was at least dressed. The look on Dís’s face, however, told her that her sister in law wasn’t buying her hastily-assembled charade.

 

“You’ve got to be joking!” she heard Dwalin protest. It was far from the first time that the warrior had caught them, but Bilba still ducked her head. Thorin wore only his pants, unable to reach his shirt in time. Unlike her, however, he appeared unaffected by the Company's looks of disapproval.

 

“What was it you wanted,  **Namadith**?” Thorin asked cooly.

 

“I was wondering where you’d gone,” Dís said in a would-be innocent tone. Bilba felt her face flame under the combined scrutiny of the others. 

 

“Where’s Kíli?” Tauriel’s sharp question cut through the awkwardness and Bilba scanned the room. 

 

“And Sórin,” Fíli added, looking about as though his suitor would show up. It was true, however, neither Kíli nor Sórin were present.

 

“Wasn’t he with you?” Thorin demanded, looking in Tauriel's direction.

 

“No, he went to speak to Fíli and Sórin. Something’s wrong, He’s not here. He’s getting farther away, I can feel it in our bond.” the elf’s eyes went wide and Bilba moved towards her.

 

“What do you mean further away? Is Sórin with him?” Fíli demanded in growing panic.

 

“I don’t know, I can only sense Kíli. He’s in danger-“ Tauriel replied and Bilba felt as though ice flooded her veins.

 

“Where’s Raven?” she demanded. Before she could finish, Dwalin had turned on his heel. The warrior dashed down the hall towards where her daughter slept. A heartbeat later, she followed. Fear coursed through her veins–  _what if someone had taken Raven?What if her daughter had been taken from her bed?_


	29. twenty-eight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dís speaks with Tauriel, faces a rescue mission, and an unexpected visitor.

* * *

**AN:**  Thank you, as always, to everyone for reading, commenting, subscribing, and leaving kudos! I've finally been able to finish writing and editing this one! Special treat, it's a bit longer than the other recent updates! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter :) Excited to hear what you guys think so make my day and leave me a comment ;) 

**A Note on the Text:**  Khuzdul terms are in  **Bold** , there are a few simple sobriquets and all English dialogue in  **Bold**  is spoken in the story in Khuzdul. :) 

* * *

_twenty-eight_

Dís

* * *

**_Bag End, Hobbiton_ **

_**12 January 2959** _

Dís followed the crowd towards her niece's bedroom.  _If Raven has been taken as well–_  she didn't want to think about the repercussions. Glancing towards her brother, she saw that his face had gone pale. He was still only half-dressed. Under other circumstances she would have ridiculed him for breaking the courting rituals. Now, all she could think about was her family. Her youngest son was missing. Her eldest son's One was missing. And, now, her innocent little niece might be missing as well.

"She's here!" Dwalin announced and Dís felt a wave of relief course through her. Thorin and Bilba dashed into their daughter's room, obviously desperate to check on her in person. Dís approached as well, but hung back, meeting her eldest son's wide-eyed gaze.

" **Inùdoy** *," she murmured, stepping closer.

"I need to go, I need to find them." Fíli insisted and she reached out, cupping his face with one palm.

"I know, and I'll do what I can to help you, but first we need to organize." she ordered and saw him immediately reject her directive.

" **Amad,** " he protested but she hardened her gaze.

"I know." she ground out, and he seemed to shrink in her grasp. She pulled him to her. Over his head, she glared at the rest of the Company– should they feel the need to say anything, as she held her eldest son. She had comforted him like this before. During the first days after her arrival in Erebor in particular. Then, they fought to get the kingdom on its feet and things had been hard.

"Organize? Each moment that we delay they are getting further and further away. We must leave at once! At least I will, if you are too cowardly to come!" Dís's head snapped up and she glared at her red-haired daughter in law.

"You," she narrowed her gaze, "will do no such thing." Dís released Fíli as she headed in the elf's direction. "In fact, we're going to have a little chat, you and me." Tauriel glared down at her.

"You are wasting my time. I thought you most of all would want me to be tracking your son." Tauriel's tone was positively glacial as she condemned Dís's choice.

"We can speak here in front of everyone or we can go and speak in private, which I promise you will prefer. The choice is yours." Dís straightened her spine, unwilling to cave in the face of the elf's accusation.

"Go." Tauriel's head snapped over to where Dwalin glared at the two of them. "The lads are in trouble and we're not going anywhere until she's had it out, so just go and let her do her thing." Tauriel still looked ready to protest, but at Dwalin's insistence, she fell silent and nodded. Dís wasn't sure when Tauriel and Dwalin had made their connection. Nevertheless, it was clear that the elf respected Dwalin's opinion. Dís took that as all the permission she needed and headed down the hallway towards Bilba's study. Behind her, she could hear the elf's light steps.

Dís directed Tauriel inside and closed the door. When she turned to face the elf, Tauriel had, predictably, crossed her arms and was glaring down at Dís.

"We need to talk about your behavior." A spark of surprise flashed through Tauriel's gaze.

"My behavior?" her tone was disdainful as she raised a slender eyebrow in pointed emphasis.

"Yes. Your behavior." Dís glared, planting her hands on her hips. "Sit." she ordered. Tauriel obviously considered disobeying, but finally sat on the far-too-small desk chair. To Dís's private annoyance, she still managed to make the gesture look elegant.  _Elvish grace,_  Dís disparaged.

"Well? Can we finish this so I can go and find you son?" Tauriel insisted cooly, her eyes sparking with unspoken indigence at the situation.

"You think I don't want you out there finding Kíli?" Dís's eyes narrowed as the dam broke.  _How dare she insinuate that she cares more for my child than I do,_ Dís railed internally. Outwardly, she forced herself to remain more calm. She was a princess of the line of Durin, she might lose it with her brother or their kin, but she couldn't now. No, obviously, it was up to her to explain, and demonstrate, proper dwarrow behavior to this elf. "Of course I want you out there searching for my son!  _You_  have to understand, however, that you cannot simply go about your wild ways– not anymore!" Dís glared while Tauriel's gaze narrowed.

"My wild ways?" she hissed.

"Yes! You are a warrior. I respect that. So am I,  _but_  you are now also a mother!" Dís spat and Tauriel's eyes widened, filling with a new furry.

"You  _dare_  to speak to me as though I do not take adequate care for the child within my womb?" Tauriel's voice was razor sharp and Dís knew that she should pull back from her attack. By rights, Tauriel was far older than she was, but she couldn't seem to help herself. Her fear over the potential danger to Kíli's child had been a niggling of doubt in the back of her mind for too long already.

So, instead of backing down, Dís heard herself reply; "yes, I  _dare_."

Tauriel was out of her chair in a flash. "I have waited hundreds of years to find my One and to bear their child if the Valar saw fit blessed us! I am a Captain of the elvin King's guard, not some half-trained princess and I  _know_  how to protect my baby. Losing my child's father, however,  _will_  affect them, it will cause them hurt and  _that_  is what I will prevent!" Dís eyed Tauriel with detached interest, waiting for her to finish.

"And, what, pray tell me, do you know about dwarrow birth rates? About chances of miscarrying? Of the difficulties in even conceiving?" Dís demanded and watched Tauriel flounder for a moment before she came back.

"I know the brith rates, I too have lived in Erebor, I have seen the children! What do  _you_  know of elvish birth rates? Of our difficulties? Have you  _ever_  seen an elvish child?" It was Dís's turn to flounder. "That's right. Nothing.  _Nothing!_ " Dís winced. Tauriel spun around, a tumult of Sindarin flowing from her lips as she paced. Dís sighed and sat back– apparently, the elf was unaware that she had slipped back into her native tongue. When she had finally finished, she finally came to a stop in front of Dís, who had been waiting for her to wear herself out.

Dís rose to her feet and met Tauriel's gaze.

"I apologize for having offended." she said stiffly.

"And I was not right to say such things either, I was out of line." The silly elf didn't even seem to realize that she had slipped into Sindarin in the first place. Dís decided not to bring it up.

"So, you understand then, why you cannot go chasing after Kíli?" Dís asked softly.

"What?" Tauriel's eyes narrowed dangerously again.

"We're at war. My son could be as good as dead for all I know," the pain in Dís's chest felt like a dagger, but she was no fool. "We are members of the line of Durin, we stand in the way of these dwarrow's futures, according to them. They will do whatever they can to stop us and to cause us hurt."

"Then I am your best bet at finding Kíli! I can  _feel_  him," Tauriel protested.

"I know, but you are also pregnant. What do you think I would tell Kíli if he came back and you'd sacrificed yourself for his sake? He'd never forgive himself or me for that. If you lost the babe looking for him? That's equally unforgivable for all of us so, you  _will_  remain here where you are safe and Fíli and I will search for Kíli. Thorin, Bilba, and Raven will also remain. It's logic. You're part of the royal family now, not just a Captain of the Guard." Dís scolded and Tauriel at least looked a little shamed by her speech.

"I still would rather be out there searching," Tauriel insisted quietly.

"I know, I've been where you are. But, you cannot think as a guard anymore. You are part of our royal family, Tauriel, and you cannot forget that– ever. You aren't guarding someone else, you are the one to  _be guarded_." Dís insisted.

"What else can I do then? I hate being told to stay put. It's why I saved Kíli's life the first time anyways! My King ordered me to stay, to protect our people, but the enemy were at large. It is not in my nature to remain behind. I never have." Tauriel stood, pacing again. Dís watched her, trying not to associate the elf too closely with wild animals confined in cages.

"You will assist in planning the rescue mission and then you'll be part of the guard here. It may be a diversion tactic or a trap. We don't know.  _That_  is why you cannot go. We cannot risk losing the entire family because we're blinded by emotions. Whether it is love or something else, it's too dangerous." Dís insisted.

"I hate it." Tauriel murmured, finally coming to a stop as she turned back to Dís, her eyes shining with tears. "We promised each other the rest of our lives. We swore to always have each others' backs. To never give up the search, but that is what you're asking of me. To stand aside and forsake my vows."

"I understand, but you're also pregnant! When you no longer have my grandchild's life relying directly on your survival then, we'll reassess. Fair?" Dís offered.

She knew where Tauriel was coming from. Watching Thorin and her sons leave for Erebor, she'd hated that she wasn't with them. She had longed to follow after them, to insist that she be allowed to join. After they had gone she had begun to wish she worked harder to insist that Kíli remains behind. When they were all injured, it had been the worst agony she'd ever felt. She was helpless and they needed help– but she could do nothing.

"Very well." Tauriel finally nodded.

* * *

In the hall, almost no headway had been made.  _Dwarrows,_  Dís thought as she looked at them and then raised her voice.

"Thorin, Bilba, Raven, and Tauriel remain here. Nori, set up the guard, look for anything off, this might be a distraction. Fíli will head the search party, I will go with him. Dwalin and Bifur, I ask that you accompany us along with anyone else who wishes to come." Dís announced.

After that it didn't take long for the Company to split. Glóin, Bofur, Dori, and Oín joined them, Ori, Bombur, and Balin stayed back. The royal guards were evenly split as they were needed.

Dís left to don her own weapons and armor. While she deftly strapped on her weapons she tried not to think about what she might discover.  _Was Kíli dead?_  She remembered holding him for the first time. She had watched him grow, from a babe to a toddler and then a charming little boy and a reckless youth. Only recently had he truly come into himself;  _only since he married the elf._ Dís couldn't stomach the thought of losing him– not now.  _Haven't I lost enough already with the death of Víli so soon after we found each other?_ she wanted to scream at the heavens. _Were the hardships that my people and I endured, not enough?_

"He's still alive," she had half drawn a weapon out of reflex before she realized that it was Tauriel. "I can feel him through out bond," the elf supplied.

"I will bring him home. I know you love him, but so do I. He's my son; my baby boy. I will do everything in my power to bring him home again." Dís promised and Tauriel offered her a smile.

"I know. I have never mistrusted your love for your family, only the authority you have over me." Tauriel replied. Dís nodded and, side by side, they headed back towards the rest of the departing group.

All the way down the hill, Dís could feel the weight of Tauriel's watching gaze.  _Just another reason this cannot fail,_  she mused.  _I cannot have a grandchild who never even meets their father._ And, that was not to mention the likelihood that Tauriel would take off into the trees without Kíli. In that case, she would disappear and take the child with her– likely never to be seen again.

* * *

Failure. Dís even hated the sound of the word, but it still rang through her mind.  _We have Kíli,_  she reflected, but in spite of that great success she still felt that they had failed. She glanced back at her youngest son. He lay unconscious and bleeding on the stretcher that they had constructed. Looking at him, she fought the urge to check once more that he was still breathing. She knew he was. Now that they were close together again she could sense it. Still, he was badly injured. Just as badly, she feared, as he had been after the Battle of Five Armies, and Sórin had not been recovered.

Tracking the dwarrow hadn't been hard. Well, not after Legolas and Aragorn appeared. Dís didn't like that they might have failed without the elf and ranger. Still, even she was not so prejudiced as to overlook the help that they had been. The two hadn't steered them wrong. Instead, they quietly led them along the trail of the kidnappers. They had needed Aragorn's training in healing as well when they had found Kíli. If not for his skills in combination with Oín's knowledge and experience, Kíli might not have survived.

She glanced back down at the stretcher.  _We still could lose him_ , she reflected, but she refused to let herself grieve prematurely. They had found Kíli left for dead. Still, that in and of itself was a miracle. If the dwarrow had been more thorough? It would be his body that they were bearing back. Dís looked across to Fíli who looked heartbroken.

It hadn't been a light decision, but Kíli needed more medical attention and rest. They knew the dangers both of splitting the party to return him to safety and the cost of turning away from Sórin. If they gave up the chase now, it was highly unlikely that they would ever find the healer. Or, at least, that they would retrieve him alive. Fíli had faced that horrible decision– his brother or his One.

Across the stretcher, for a moment, Fíli met her gaze and she felt almost winded by the grief in her son's gaze.  _He feels he's lost Sórin,_  Dís reflected, remembering all too clearly the way that she had felt after Víli's death.  _And, they only just met,_  she grieved her son's loss, but had no way of comforting him. From what Kíli had said before he passed out again, Sórin had made the ultimate sacrifice. The foolish healer had pretended to be Kíli, using the Durin courting bead from Fíli as fake proof of identity. As a result, the dwarrow had beaten Kíli, but left him for dead– thinking him to be inconsequential. Then, they had kidnapped what they thought was the king's nephew. Thorin would do what he could to ensure Sórin's return, but his sacrifice allowed them room to maneuver. No one would like it, and likely they wouldn't say anything either, but it was the truth. If it had actually been Kíli, Thorin would all but give up the keys of Erebor for the life of her youngest. Even though it would mean Fíli's happiness, he would not be so reckless in his attempts to return Sórin home.

It was that truth that Dís read in Fíli's gaze. He knew what Sórin had really been doing. He was sacrificing himself for the livelihood of Kíli and, by extent, of Erebor.  _He really did find a dwarf of worth,_  Dís reflected. Privately, she knew that she also could not dwell on the likelihood that they would never see Sórin again.

"Once Kíli is settled," Fíli began and Dís nodded once– understanding. Her eldest trailed off and she wished that there was more she could do.

"I know," she said softly.

"Is there any hope?" Dís felt as though someone had reached into her chest and squeezed her heart as she looked across at Fíli.

"There's always hope." Dís heard herself saying. She wasn't sure she believed it anymore, but what else could she say? He was hurting and she was his mother– it was her job to soothe his fears, wasn't it? Fíli's expression told her loud and clear that he didn't believe her, but he nodded in a complacent agreement.

* * *

When they arrived back at Bag End, Tauriel was predictably waiting for them. The tall elf looked cramped on Bilba's front bench, but she leapt to her feet in a singular smooth motion. As she ran towards her One, her face pale with worry, Legolas moved forward. He said something to her in Sindarin and she nodded. Dís didn't like to admit it, but considering Tauriel's connection, she would need to learn Sindarin. Certainly, Dís hated when she didn't understand conversations going on around her. Recently, that had been happening all too frequently for her liking.

When the tall she-elf made it to her prince's side and Dís saw the raw emotion on her visage she couldn't help but pause. Dís knew that Tauriel was madly in love with her son, but the fear she saw on the she-elf's features? Well, it reminded Dís of when she had heard the tidings about Víli.

"How is he?" Tauriel fell to her knees beside the stretcher.

"He's strong, but its still cold outside, we should get him inside." Dís replied shortly.

"Of course," Tauriel rose in a fluid motion, but before they could get Kíli inside, another figure shot out of the door. Raven froze as she took in Kíli's bloodstained appearance. Thorin appeared in the doorway to the smial a moment later, his face going white though he swept Raven out of the way.

"Go, fetch your  **Amad** , tell her we will need boiling water and clean cloth for bandages." Thorin instructed her and Raven turned on her heel.

" **What happened**?" his eyes blazed with blue fury, though he kept his tone soft and spoke in Khuzdul. Dís suspected his caution stemmed from a fear that young ears were still straining to hear them.

" **We don't know much yet. He hasn't woken. Sórin wasn't there, only Kíli. We had to choose to come back and ensure his safety, Fíli-** " her son moved past her in that moment.

" **I did what had to be done. Kíli was there and he needed aid, Sórin was not. I'll go out again,** " he trailed off, and Thorin reached out, placing a conciliatory hand on his shoulder.

" **You did the right thing,** " Thorin began.

" **Did I?** " Dís hid a wince at the vehemence in Fíli's voice. " **If it had been Bilba, would you have given up?** "

" **You're not giving up. You recovered your brother. He needs medical attention and it was not safe to treat him there. If you had not made that call, he would have died. Splitting up the few warriors you had wouldn't have been smart either. You made a call based on the logical options in front of you. That is exactly what you should have done.** " Thorin's grip on his nephew tightened, as he spoke. For a moment, Dís saw a flash of gratefulness in her son's gaze. She would support him as best she could; she always did. Still, it was Thorin's approval that he craved. Her brother was not overly affectionate with the boys. As a result, they always strove to make him proud– even now when they were fully grown dwarrow.

"Thorin? Fíli? What happened?" the two separated as Bilba appeared in the hallway, her face white as she looked between them. "I heard Kíli was injured," she added, glancing in Dís's direction.

"Tauriel is with him now," Dís nodded and Bilba went ashen.

"He's injured,  **Ghivashel** , but not dying." Thorin said softly and Bilba nodded, looking visibly relieved.

"What can I do to help? What about Sórin?" she looked to Fíli.

"He was not there, they still have him. We don't know why they left Kíli behind." Fíli replied.

"He's strong, a fighter like you, he'll be fine." Bilba said resolutely. "I'll help Raven, she came in search of hot water and bandages. I have some Athelas too, it will help Tauriel in healing Kíli. Fíli, you need rest before you charge off again and a meal, you won't do Sórin any good if you keel over." Once, Dís would have felt a pang of jealousy when listening to Bilba take control of the situation. Now, she knew better than to feel competitive with the hobbit. Now, all she felt was relief.  _After all,_  she reminded herself, _if everything goes as planned, Bilba will be our Queen. When the hobbit does ascend to the throne,_  Dís mused, _she will need to exert that same authority._

"Thank you," Fíli nodded to Bilba, and she hesitated for a moment, moving forward to wrap Dís's golden son in an embrace.

Fíli curled in on himself, hugging the little hobbit. Dís looked past them to Thorin who looked up to meet her gaze. He offered her a smile and she found herself returning it. There had been a time that she had been fiercely protective of her boys. Then, seeing them hug anyone else would have sparked jealousy in her. Since the Quest, however, she'd come to accept that she would never be a part of the bond that they shared with the Company. Perhaps too, it was that realization that helped her cede her royal role to Bilba.

The two separated, and Dís watched as Bilba bustled away and Fíli retreated down the corridor. Thorin sighed, also looking after his nephew. Then, he glanced towards the room that Kíli and Tauriel had disappeared in to.

"They're strong," Dís said, and Thorin shifted his heavy gaze to her.

"Who?" he asked and she smiled ruefully.

"All of them." she replied and he shared a small sad smile with her.

"She still surprises me sometimes. I should be past that," Thorin nodded.

"Aye, I agree," she nodded thoughtfully.

"After this, things will be different." Thorin announced and she raised an eyebrow in question at him. "We didn't want this for them," he scowled; the smile vanishing.

"No, but we can't keep the world from them. They're a part of it, they're your heirs. Both of my boys are powerful dwarrow by our standards and Durins in every inch of their nature to boot." Dís tried to sooth his temper. Thorin glanced in her direction, glaring moodily at her. "We've both done everything we can. Don't sulk, just be there for them." she insisted.

"She's right you know," Dwalin spoke up. Dís turned, he was leaning in the doorway, looking far more haggard than she was used to him appearing. "You've done what you can, the lads, they were bound to encounter difficulties. You cannot blame yourself for the lives that the boys have led, Thorin, you gave them the best you could. No one would fault you for anything you did to give them the best life possible."

"I'm not sulking, and I know." Thorin defended, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. Dís smiled to herself, patting her brother on the shoulder.

"He's awake!" they all startled– looking back in the direction where Tauriel was disappearing back in to Kíli's room.

Dís felt her heart jump with joy. Oín and Aragorn had both been most worried about Kíli waking at all. They had both speculated that, if he woke, he stood a good chance of healing properly.

She had turned on her heel, about to head back to check on Kíli, when they heard the tap on the door. She, Thorin, and Dwalin exchanged a suspicious look before the knock was repeated. The second time was louder and it became clear that a stick was being used to bang on the door. Bilba came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her skirt as she eyed the door with annoyance and suspicion.

"Coming!" she called as the knock repeated again. As she passed, Dís heard her muttering something about disrespecting fine paint jobs. Still, until the door swung open, she didn't realize who was on the other side.

"Gandalf," Thorin's back went ramrod straight as he glared at the wizard, stooped to peer inside the smial.

"Ah, Bilba, Thorin, Company, I'm glad to see you-" he began cordially.

"Are you," Thorin stepped forward– cutting off the wizard. At his side, Dwalin mirrored the movement. Dís glared coldly at the wizard.  _How dare he arrive now,_  she ruminated, _he's hurt Bilba and Raven and now my sons have both been injured in their own ways._

From down the hallway, several other dwarrow had emerged. Dís suspected that they had initially come at Tauriel's call. Then, having emerged, had inadvertently spotted Gandalf. She was pleased, however, that none of them seemed happy to see the wizard. Within seconds, the hallway was teaming with members of the Company. All of whom, Dís noted, looked less than happy to see the wizard.

"What are you doing here Gandalf?" Bilba asked wearily.

"Well, I heard a rumor that you had been kidnapped-" he got no further.

"A rumor? I think you know perfectly well that she was kidnapped! Not only that, Raven was left on her own. That little lassie with no way to defend herself or even really to fend for herself. She is a  _child_! Moreover, for the past sixteen years they've been starving and alone while you've done nothing! No, worse that that. You have come and smiled and been cryptic while you feasted with us and rested safe under our protection. In all those times, not once did you even allude to the fact that Bilba was still alive let alone in need. Not even when you knew both of her condition of living and while we were mourning her for years!" Dís turned to Dwalin, who had exploded.

She might have suspected that Thorin or Fíli might have been the first to speak. The more she thought about it, however, the less surprised she was. Dwalin was their family's protector, and he was very protective of both Bilba and Raven. She had noticed it several times. He seemed afraid to let them out of his field of vision; as though something would happen to them if he looked away. She supposed though, something had. First, Bilba had been presumed dead. Raven had been found alone and wandering and then had been attacked. The two did seem to attract an inordinate amount of ill luck.

Putting that apparent source of guilt aside, however, Dwalin did have a soft spot for children. That after all was why he had agreed to train the upcoming warriors after all. They were his prodigies, and he took pride in watching them grow. Therefore, his taking to Raven so quickly seemed natural. The protectiveness too, well, it reminded Dís of when her boys had been young.

Glancing sideways, she inadvertently caught Ori's eye and had to hide a smile. The scribe dwarf was staring in open adoration of the warrior. She had suspected the pair of them for a while. Given the horror of the day, it was a sharp reminder of exactly what they were fighting for.

"Now, now, Dwalin, you make it sound as if I were personally responsible-" Dís turned her attention back to the wizard. She stepped forward with a cold smile that froze the rest of the Company.

"Personally responsible? You think that we're holding you personally responsible do you? You have no idea what you've done– the damage you've inflicted on this family!" Gandalf almost seemed to shrink in size under the weight of her glare.

Dís took it as a sign of weakness and stepped forward again– relishing in the attack.  _Perhaps_ , she mused,  _Bilba will learn from this._ After all, Dís knew that she was a force to be reckoned with when she was in a good mood and she certainly wasn't in a good mood now. Not when her youngest was so bleeding in a bed down the hallway. Not when her eldest was nursing a broken heart. Now when her niece was staring wide-eyed and fearful. No, this would be a confrontation to remember, because no one hurt her family and got away with it.

* * *

 

***Inùdoy** = son


	30. twenty-nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli wakes up.

**AN:**  Thanks all for reading and supporting this story! :) A bit of a fluffy chapter here, but I promise more action's coming up :) Please let me know what you think! Your reviews always make my day 100x better :D

* * *

_Twenty-nine_

Kíli

* * *

_Bag End, Hobbiton_

_13 January 2959_

Kíli hated feeling trapped– but that was exactly what he was. Trapped. He could hear his mother's voice floating back from the hallway. Unfortunately, however, he couldn't quite make out what she was saying– nor whom she was addressing. At his side, Tauriel's lips twitched as she listened in. His question about who had inspired his mother's ire died on his lips as he paused, watching her. Kíli found himself smiling as Tauriel tried– and failed– to hide her own amusement. Things did not always go smoothly between her and his  **Amad.**  Still, Kíli knew that they were both trying in their own ways and, he loved them both for it. Relief swept through Kíli as he focused on his beautiful wife. For a time, he had feared that he would never see her again; that he would never meet their child. She glanced in his direction and her pointed ears flushed. For some reason, that he couldn't fathom, she often felt self conscious when he was watching her; or so she claimed. He had no idea why she would ever feel that way– especially since it was he who was aging. He dropped her gaze, and a moment later the bed sank and she gently took one of his bandaged hands in hers.

"You are as beautiful to me as the day we first met,  _nín hervenn_." she smiled at him and he felt himself respond to it. He loved the way that she read him. Of course, it made it impossible to keep any secrets– even the good kind. Still, if he was being honest, he knew it made their relationship stronger.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you." he heard himself reply; as he always did. She laughed softly, bringing his hand to her lips.

"I feared I wouldn't hear those words again." he moved slightly, ignoring the flare of pain that even adjusting his arm caused.

"It would take more than a few upset dwarrow to take me from you," he promised, though they both knew it wasn't true.

To his alarm, however, she burst into tears. He scrambled to sit up, and it was a sure sign of her distress that she didn't try to stop him. Everything in Kíli's body hurt, but he reached out– hugging his elf to him. The feeling of her in his arms didn't quite make the pain vanish, but it certainly made it feel worth it. She held him too, a little tighter than was strictly comfortable, but for her he would do anything.

"I'm sorry," she apologized when she had finally contained her emotions and sat up to look at him. "You must be in pain," she added. Immediately, she set her own emotions aside, fretting over the potential damage to him.

"Don't," he threatened, trying to sound intimidating in spite of the fact that he felt about ready to topple over. "What can I do?" he insisted and she smiled gratefully at him.

"You can heal," she offered, but he continued to glare until she gave in. "I think it's the baby," she admitted, and he felt icy fear spread through him before she finished her sentence. "Being pregnant, I mean. It's just– I've just been so emotional." she sounded so miserable, and it was so unlike her that he had to bite his lip to stop from laughing.

"So you think that the pregnancy makes you more emotional?" he asked, fighting to keep control of his own emotions.

"Yes," she nodded, ducking her head so he couldn't see her face. He reached out, cupping her chin and making her meet his gaze.

"Need I list all the reasons I love your pregnancy?" he asked with exaggerated annoyance, and was rewarded with a rueful smile.

"I know," she admitted. "But, I still, well, I said some things to your mother. I was so worried that Bilba made me leave the smial! Now though, I have cried so much that you're sitting up when you're not supposed to be." her misery returned. He could feel it.

"Well, how about I try and be the logical one for once in this situation, and you can be the emotional one, just to try it." he teased, but she nodded and he took her hand once more.

"What were you doing to get yourself caught?" she looked over at him, her gaze turning sharp and shrewd.

"I wanted to speak to Sórin, that's all." he shrugged.

"I was out of my mind with worry when you didn't come back. It was luck that I went to speak to the others before chasing after you," she scolded.

"Before chasing after me?" he frowned, a cold suspicion forming. "Tauriel," she glared at him for using her name. "Promise me you won't come after me?" he heard himself all but begging and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"We made a vow," she began.

"Before we had children to think of," he insisted, interrupting her. "Now, we do have a child to think of. The babe growing in your womb and, hopefully, others to come. Tauriel, they need to have at least one parent. Right now, our child needs you the most, to carry them safely and to nurse them when they're born. Please, don't argue with me? When they're older we can discuss again, I promise. I would never forgive myself though if something happened to you or our child because of me. Especially, if you were fulfilling a promise to me." Tauriel bowed her head, but nodded.

"Very well, I will seek to safeguard our child first," she vowed, but he could see the pain in her gaze. He stroked her hand with his thumb, rubbing soothing circles into her smooth skin.

"Will you tell me now, what you were doing?" she demanded.

"Sórin wanted advice on courting gifts, but there were so many ears here, so we wandered a little ways down the lane. We didn't realize how far we'd gone until it was too late. They were already in the Shire, the dwarrow, and they attacked. They captured him and then used him to leverage me into surrendering. He was clever from the first. He claimed to be me, and he tried to get them to let me go because I was an unimportant no one. Instead, they knocked us unconscious and took us both. When I came to, they were interrogating him. He never gave in, refused to give away how many dwarrow we had with us, our routines, and so forth. They began to beat me then, to make him talk. It was luck that they were impatient. They went too far and decided it was better to try to leverage Thorin through me– well, Sórin. They abandoned me because I would slow them down– they thought I could act as a warning and a parting gift. I don't know where they planned to go. They were from the Blue Mountains, but I didn't glean much else," Kíli cursed himself. He had been so concentrated on making it out alive; on trying to rescue himself and Sórin. He should have paid more attention to what they were saying. He should have been trying to discern their intentions.

"You survived," it was Tauriel's turn to comfort him once more. "That is what is important. We will go after them now, and we will seek a way to rescue Sórin." she insisted. "I know it."

A soft knock startled them, and a moment later Fíli appeared in the doorway.

"You're awake," he said with evident relief.

"I'm feeling a little hungry actually, would you mind sitting with him?" Tauriel didn't need to excuse herself, nor did she have to offer an excuse, still Kíli appreciated it.

"Of course." Fíli nodded. The two exchanged spots and, with a last smile, Tauriel left the room.

"How are you?" Fíli asked softly.

"Tired," Kíli admitted to his elder brother.

"You should rest," Fíli moved– half helping and half pushing Kíli back against the pillows. Kíli had to admit that it felt good to lie back. Fíli fixed the blankets, mothering him like he had for so many years before.

"Thank you," Kíli blurted and his brother froze.

"For what?" Fíli turned to look at him and he felt an odd pang. At one point they had been practically on the same brain wavelength. Of course, now Kíli shared that kind of a bond with Tauriel, but he still felt the loss of his connection with his brother

"For choosing me." Kíli heard himself saying.

"Your my brother, Kí," Fíli replied and it almost brought tears to Kíli's eyes to hear that familiar sobriquet.

"But he's your One," Kíli protested before he could take the words back.

"And I'll never stop looking for him," Fíli resolved, "but you were there and you needed medical attention. I wasn't about to ignore that or abandon you."

"I would have done the same thing." Kíli felt the need to assure his brother and Fíli gave him a sad smile.

"No, you can't. If our roles were reversed? You have to go after Tauriel, not me. She's your family now too and the mother of your child." Fíli insisted and they fell silent.

"I would go after her. You're right, having a child changes things, but you'll always be my Fí. I'll always need you and I won't ever give up or abandon you." Kíli insisted quietly. Fíli nodded, but didn't respond verbally.

"About Sórin," Fíli finally began before trailing off.

"He's a dwarf of worth, Fí," Kíli acknowledged. "He knew from the start what he was going to do. He knowingly sacrificed himself to protect me, and I won't forget that. If it wouldn't be too long waiting for me to heal, I would insist on coming with you to find him. I owe him my life and, if you can put that debt aside? He's a dwarf with a heart of  _mithril_ , Fí." Kíli watched his brother and could see him struggle as he fought to maintain his composure. He waited until his brother's facade cracked, and then he drew Fíli to him. Most of the time it had been Fíli comforting Kíli, but every once in a while he got to comfort his elder brother.

"What if I never get to-" Fíli began. Suddenly, Kíli recalled when they had been younger and afraid of so many things. Their younger selves, however, had worried about thunderstorms, stolen food, and the ilk. That they'd been afraid of something like not growing a proper beard now seemed ludicrous to Kíli.

"Don't Fí," Kíli insisted quietly, but firmly. "You'll see him again, you'll get him back. You can't despair." Fíli fell into silence and Kíli held his brother, gently stroking the thick golden hair.

Fíli had gotten his coloring from their father. When they were younger he had sometimes worried that it made him less of Durin since Dís, Thorin, and Kíli all had dark hair. Since they'd reclaimed Erebor, he'd become the peoples' golden prince.

Kíli curled in closer to his brother; he hadn't really realized it, but he had missed his brother dearly. Since he and Tauriel had been married they'd tried to avoid being in the Mountain or, at least, being out in public. Unfortunately, however, that also meant that he rarely saw his brother anymore. Of course, his own feud with Thorin had only ever exacerbated the issue.

"We're family, Fí. We'll always be here for each other." Kíli promised his brother, aware the Fíli's breathing had even out. Suspecting that his brother had finally worn himself out, Kíli stayed quiet– letting him rest. Kíli let his own eyelids droop, he was still tired after all. As he drifted off, he realized that Dís had stopped shouting at whomever the unfortunate visitor was.

* * *

When Kíli woke again Fíli was still sound asleep on his lap, but they weren't alone. He didn't immediately open his eyes and was rewarded with a snippet of conversation. Dís and Thorin were in the room– apparently discussing plans.

"We should leave as soon as possible, it's too dangerous to stay here. They were capable dwarrow and they were taken from right beneath our noses. We're not safe here." Thorin was saying.

"Kíli's too injured to be moved right now and it's still the middle of winter. If we try and make for Erebor? He won't make it and, likely others won't either." Dís argued back, still speaking softly.

"Oín said we could make it to Rivendell. The winters in the Shire are cold, but not so extreme. Moreover, the elves are friends of Bilba's, and we are in need of Lord Elrond's advice anyways." Thorin finished begrudgingly.

"Of Lord Elrond's advice?" Dís demanded sharply, and Kíli heard his  **Amad**  sigh.

"Yes, Bilba is in need of his advice on a matter, and her needs are my need. I am courting her, Dís, and I intend to wed her and make her Queen as soon as I am able." Thorin admitted, and Kíli had to fight to keep a grin from appearing on his face. He loved Bilba, and he was glad that she would be his aunt soon enough. During the Quest, he had come to consider her a member of his family anyways.

"The journey is still arduous," Dís fretted and Kíli decided it was due time for him to wake up.

"I will make the journey to Rivendell. Really, I am much better than I was." he lied blatantly. His uncle and mother both fixed him with stern, disbelieving glares. "You're right, Uncle, it's not safe to stay here anymore. So, if Bilba is willing to leave, then we should– as soon as possible. It is true too, the winter here is still mild enough. We could risk it without too much danger if we were to use ponies." Kíli hesitated for a moment, trying to decide his uncle's reaction before making the proposition. "We can also send word to Lord Elrond. Surely, if he is a friend as he claims, he will send elves to aid us."

"Why would we need their aid?" Thorin frowned.

"Because Fíli will take our best warriors and go after Sórin while the elves guard us." Kíli replied unflinchingly as he stared resolutely at his uncle.

"Kíli," Thorin growled.

"No, uncle. He's given everything for us, and while I know that neither of us can go. He, however, can. We should do everything in our power to ensure that he can be successful. It's not much compared to what he deserves, but we'll do what we can, just how you taught us to do when we were little." Kíli insisted. He watched as his uncle and  **Amad**  exchanged glances and he knew that he had won. He wasn't alone in his thinking– he'd always known that, but they had needed someone to say it outright.

"Very well, I will write to Lord Elrond, but we will make no plans until we hear back. If he cannot supply us with aid, I cannot in good conscious let Fíli go."

"Agreed," Kíli nodded, "though, ask him too if he can spare elves to help Fíli? Trackers? Healers? He may need them." Kíli insisted and Thorin nodded once more.

"I am glad to see you awake and hale, all things considered." Thorin acknowledged.

"Thank you, Uncle." Kíli acknowledged, and then Thorin departed. Dís smiled and approached his bed.

"You've grown so much," she ran a hand through his hair– as though he was still a child. He scowled, but didn't really mean it; and she knew. "I'll leave you to rest. If you need anything, just shout." she turned and it brought back a memory.

" **Amad** , who were you yelling at earlier?" he asked and she scowled immediately.

"Tharkûn." Dís replied tightly. "He had the gall to assume that he could waltz back in here as though nothing had happened. I corrected him and disabused him of the notion that we would not fight for Bilba or Raven. Hopefully, now he'll think twice before ever trying to play at being a god again." Kíli felt his own anger rise in his chest and gave her a cold smile.

"I wish I could have been there to see it. Is he still here?"

"No, he's left to seek less hostile company, not that any of us really miss him." Dís replied primly and Kíli smiled. This was the  **Amad**  he remembered– a dwarrowdam who went to war for those whom she loved and who you never wanted to cross. "Now, get some rest." Dís insisted and then exited the room. Kíli snuggled closer to his brother, and did as he was told.

* * *

The door closed a little too loudly and Kíli startled awake. Fíli was gone and the bed felt empty without him. One glance towards the door, however, told him who his visitor was. Raven looked at him rather sheepishly, shuffling her feet in obvious nerves.

"Hello Raven," he invited with a smile.

"Did I wake you?" she asked worriedly. "Ma said I couldn't come see you because you were sleeping."

"I was already awake." he lied.

"Oh, good," relief spread across her features and she moved over to his side. "Ma says you're injured," her eyes took in the many white bandages.

"I am, but I will be alright. For now though, no wrestling or training." Kíli said, determined to put on a brave face for her.

"But for how long?" Raven asked, her eyes wide.

"Well, at least a few weeks. Maybe even a few months, I suppose," Kíli wasn't sure.

"That's a long time. I overheard Aunty Dís saying you were almost killed," Raven whispered, not looking at him.

"Well, almost killed and killed aren't the same thing. Also, Oín believes I'll make a full recovery and he's the healer. Still, these things do take time." Kíli explained.

"But everyone was so scared, Ma was crying–" Raven trailed off, her own eyes looking oddly bright.

"Come here, Raven," he held out a hand and, when she took it, drew her to him. Kíli ignored the pain as he held her petite form to him. "People do cry when they're worried, but it doesn't mean that you have to be scared. It doesn't mean that there's nothing to be done, either."

Raven watched him, drawing back to meet his gaze. For a second, Kíli remembered Fíli speaking to him about her in the aftermath of Heptin's funeral. Death, Fíli had aptly pointed out, was a fairly foreign concept to their little cousin. It had been all too common for them when they grew up; but not so for Raven. It was true she'd had to fend for herself where they had been sheltered. Death, however, was not uncommon amongst the dwarrow– especially the survivors of Azanulbizar. Though the dwarrow had survived, first Erebor and then Azanulbizar, Fíli and Kíli had attended many a funeral. Kíli knew too that, given how worried Dís and the others had been, he had been in mortal peril himself. To the untrained eye, that was just as scary as actually dying.

"Ma says that we're to leave soon, she said that–" Raven hesitated, obviously torn when it came to how to address Thorin. "Well, she says we're all to leave because it's too dangerous here." she finished with a little shrug.

"Yes, it's a wise decision to leave. We're less protected here and Uncle wants the best for you and your  **Amad**." Kíli sensed that Raven was seeking his approval; even if she was too shy to say so outright.

"You'll come too?" she asked. He smiled and drew her near, placing a kiss on her forehead the way he remembered Dís kissing him when he was younger.

"Of course I'll be there." he smiled at her.

"Even though you're injured?" she asked.

"Even so." he promised. A soft knock on the door interrupted them and while Kíli looked towards it, he caught Raven trying to stifle a yawn. "Come in," he called and, a moment later, Tauriel appeared in the doorway.

"Your mother's looking for you," she said with a little smile as she looked at Raven.

"Oh," Raven's face fell and she glanced back at Kíli. "I should go."

"Yes, before Bilba comes in here looking for you." Kíli agreed. "Still, how about I promise you, I'll be here when you get up and we'll leave together soon for Rivendell."

"Rivendell?" Raven's eyes lit up, and suddenly Kíli realized that Bilba might not have shared that information with Raven.

"Yes, but you must go now and obey your  **Amad**. I wasn't supposed to tell you about Rivendell, so for me will you make sure that you listen to her and do what she wants? She's only worried for you, and you must respect that." Kíli knew it was too late to take back his error, and decided that instead it would be better to go with it.

"I promise!" Raven nodded vigorously and Kíli smiled and kissed her forehead once more.

"Good, then go and get into bed before your  **Amad**  finds you out and about." Kíli instructed. A moment later, he and Tauriel were left alone.

"You're good with her," Tauriel commented, and he looked over to his elf– raising an eyebrow.

"You've said that before," he commented and she laughed quietly.

"I like to see it, it's like catching a glimpse of what you'll be like when our child is born." she admitted softly. Kíli found himself smiling as well.

"I am looking forward to meeting them." he said softly.

"I'm glad you will." Tauriel returned quietly.

"Me too." he said as she drew close and he pulled her to him. "Lie with me?" he asked softly and she acquiesced.

Tauriel spooned around him, her longer form cradling his. He leaned into her, inhaling her familiar scent and let his eyes drift closed. The morning would herald preparations for Fíli's rescue mission as well as their own evacuation. Both of which would inevitably lead them back to the growing civil war. For the night, however, he could focus on Tauriel and their child. For the night he could enjoy the peace that he felt. With that in mind, he let himself fall asleep– ignoring the fear that he would not have this peace again for a long time.


	31. thirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raven learns a life lesson and deals with some guilt.

**AN:**  Thank you all for the continued support, all of the comments and kudos truly do keep me writing! :) Please make my day and let me know what you think of this chapter :D 

* * *

 

_thirty_

Raven

* * *

 

**Bag End, Hobbiton**

**20 January 2959**

Raven wouldn't call herself a delinquent. At least, not really. Sure, she'd broken rules before, but she'd always had good reasons. When she tended to her traplines alone she knew Bilba appreciated not having to hunt for their food. When she snuck in to town alone she could justify that they didn't have the time for both her and Bilba to go. When she chased after Bilba, well, what else could she have done? This time though, she wasn't sure about her justification. It was the right thing to do—she knew that, but beyond that justification? Well, things got a bit hazy.

Raven surveyed the room that had become hers in the last couple of weeks. They hadn't been at Bag End for long. Just a matter of weeks really, but she still felt like she was getting ready to leave her home.  _This isn't home, nor is the smial, not anymore,_ she reminded herself. No, home would be Erebor. She and Bilba had discussed Thorin's offer—give up his kingdom for them? A mixture of joy and nervousness filled her belly at the thought of his offer. He was king, and he'd fought so hard for Erebor but he would give it all up for them? Raven had always worried that she would disappoint him—now, that fear returned. She knew what life was like when it was just Bilba, Aunt Primula, and her. Now, she knew a little about what life might have been like if she was raised as a proper hobbit. She had no idea what life at Erebor would really be like.

"It's a dangerous business going out your door," she muttered to herself. It was one of her mother's favorite teasing phrases.

"You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to." She looked up to see Dwalin standing in the doorway. "I heard your  **Amad**  say that many a time," the warrior smiled affectionately. "It was a mantra of sorts, a promise that if she did succeed in keeping her feet, then everything would be alright."

"Probably, there's little that Ma can't talk herself in to." Raven acknowledged.

"And that, I dare say, is a trait she passed on to you as well." Dwalin noted, and Raven felt her cheeks warm. It was true. She often had to talk herself in to doing something, but once she did then, there was little that could stop her.

"Perhaps," she settled on a shrug.

"Are you ready for tomorrow?" Raven glanced around her empty room. They were leaving in the morning. _Leaving and never coming back,_  she reflected morosely.

"I think so," she answered.

"You're worried?" he interpreted.

"No, I mean, I shouldn't be. I know that you'll keep us safe, and the elves are coming as well. So, even though Fíli will leave to find Sórin, we'll never be without an adequate number of guards," Raven reasoned out loud.

"Knowing something and feeling something though, they're different." Dwalin offered gently. "It's a long trip, and it won't be without its dangers. No one would fault you for feeling anxious."

"I'm not anxious," the quickness of her reply no doubt gave her away. At her side, Dwalin chuckled unapologetically.

"Sure you're not," he teased and she glared. "You're worried you'll be lost. You only just got used to this lifestyle and now we're asking you adapt once more. It's a lot to ask of you, and a lot to consider." In spite of his gruffness, Dwalin had a quality that about him that made one want to listen and follow his advice. It was a trait he shared with his brother—and one that, Raven was sure, made Balin such a valuable advisor.

"Alright, fine,  _pretend_  you're right, what should I be considering?" Raven asked—emphasizing 'pretend' and knowing she didn't fool Dwalin for a second.

"Well,  _if_ , you were concerned, I'd remind you that we're already very proud of you. Your parents, Dís and the boys, the rest of the Company. True, you weren't raised as a dwarrowdam, nor as a princess. However, compared to a person's character, cultural traditions hardly matter. You'll learn those things and, will it be easy, perhaps not, but you're bright. Your  **Amad** 's given you a good education, and passed on her insatiable curiosity to you. With those two things under your belt, you'll be caught up in no time at all." Dwalin sat back, indulging her little hypothetical.

"But what if I'm not what they want, or need?" Raven murmured. " **Adad** ," she remembered the proper dwarrow name for father, "he had to prove himself to the dwarrow. Won't I also?"

"Well, it's true, he's had to earn their respect, but I wouldn't worry about that any time soon. You'll earn their loyalty too soon enough, just continue as you are. Dwarrow respect strength, it's true, and battle prowess, but the true key to a dwarf's heat? Treat them with respect and compassion, as an equal. Accept them and they will accept you." Dwalin straightened. "But, you never heard that from me." he asserted with a wink, and Raven let out a quiet giggle—unable to help herself. "Now, what did I just say about respect?" Dwalin feigned anger, and Raven let out a scream of mirth. He fell on her, relentlessly tickling her sides until she gasped for breath.

"Alright, that's enough!" warrior and captive straightened, called to attention by Bilba and Thorin's arrival.

"Dwalin, I need a word," Thorin said, and Dwalin immediately sobered.

"I'll see you in the morning," he said to Raven, standing and exiting her bedroom.

"As will I," Thorin said, with a soft smile in her direction before he turned and left the room. Raven hesitated, worrying her lip as she debated internally.

Finally, right before Thorin disappeared down the hall she called out, "good night,  **Adad**!" Thorin paused and moved back into the room.

"Good night," he replied. Then, after an infinitesimal pause, he moved over to her side, brushing a kiss over her forehead. She smiled up at him before he disappeared after Dwalin.

When they were gone, Bilba stepped further in to the room. For a moment Raven feared that Bilba had found out what she'd done.

"Are you all ready for tomorrow?" Bilba asked, and Raven felt a rush of relief. If Bilba was asking her about packing then, surely, she didn't know about what Raven had done.

"I think so," Raven replied. "I mean, I'm all packed,"

"If you don't mind some motherly advice," Bilba began, and Raven nodded—encouraging her on. "Then, you're never ready to leave on an adventure, no matter how small, but that's not to say you're unprepared. You're going to flourish, Raven, I know it, and I'm proud of you." Raven smiled at her mother,  _would you still say that knowing what I did?_  she wondered, foolishly.  _Of course she would, I didn't do anything too atrocious,_ she corrected herself.

"Thanks, Ma," Raven mumbled. It was always nice to hear that from one's mother, but she still worried. After all, perhaps she should have done more—that she was undeserving.

"So, want to tell me why you've been avoiding me?" Bilba's attack was direct and unexpected.

"Wh-what?" Raven's eyes widened, and she told herself it was in surprise—not panic.

"You've been avoiding me for a few days now. Why?" Bilba pressed.

"I haven't been avoiding you, just packing!" Raven hurried, wishing that there was something left to busy herself with.

"Well then, if you're sure," Bilba said, though her tone made it clear that she knew Raven was lying. Raven's tummy coiled nervously, but she shot Bilba a bright smile.

"I should probably go to sleep, like Dwalin said, we have an early start tomorrow, and—" she feigned a yawn, "I really  _am_  tired."

Bilba raised a skeptical brow, but kissed her forehead. "Of course, dear," she said, and rose, heading for the exit. "I'll just get your lamp for you," Bilba said as she was leaving, and then took said lamp with her. Raven hoped her disappointment hadn't showed. She really wasn't tired—she just wanted to be left alone. Her hopes of reading and whiling away the hours before their departure, however, were gone.

Left alone in the now-dark room, Raven had no choice but to crawl under the covers. She twisted and turned in the sheets—unable to settle down enough to sleep. Her mind stubbornly wandering back to the secret she was keeping from Bilba.

* * *

Raven had only just fallen asleep when she heard the sound of raised voice and footsteps in the hallway. She frowned and rolled out of bed, groping in the dark towards the door to her room. She threw it open and saw dwarrow running hither and thither, arming themselves.

"Wha-" she began, but then Dís was there.

"Raven!" she went obediently through the melee to her aunt. "Go to the boys' room, Elsba and Lívói are waiting for you, stay there until you're told otherwise!"

"But what's happening?" Raven protested, glaring at the dwarrowdam. Dís was also armed and looking quite fierce.

"Nothing for you to worry about," Dís insisted. Then, Raven was spinning so that she was facing down the hallway, towards the boys' room. "Go!" Dís ordered again, and Raven knew that it would be fruitless to continue arguing.

She made her way down the hall, narrowly avoiding Glóin and Gimli. Father and son walked side by side, donning full armor and taking up the entire passageway. It was odd, Raven thought, to see them attired thus. They had worn their armor and weapons when they arrived, but that was a while ago. Since then, they'd taken to wearing some armor and weapons after the attacks, but this was different. They were under attack—Raven knew that much. When the dwarrow caught her watching they offered her smiles and words that fell on deaf ears. Raven tried to return the gesture, but her efforts seemed to fall flat. Instead, she watched in horrified curiosity, trying to process what was happening.

Behind her, the door to the boys' room opened and then she was snatched inside.

"What were you thinking, you could've been crushed!" Elsba scolded . Given the small and very crowded room, however, Raven was more worried about being trapped inside.

"I was trying to find my Ma," Raven lied—it was true, she had been looking for Bilba. Still, she'd been more interested in the upcoming fight.

"She's out there, but King Thorin won't let anything happen to her." Lívói insisted with a smile that Raven was sure was supposed to be reassuring.

"But what's happening?" Raven insisted.

"We're under attack!" Baldur replied, before his mother could shush him.

"From the dwarrow?" Raven asked immediately while Elsba scolded her eldest.

"Who else?" Elsbur replied, while his mother was otherwise occupied. She turned her glare on him, though Raven was undeterred.

"But why now? I thought we were safe, that we had a window during which to leave!" Raven protested.

"We thought so too, but they must have been watching. It's impossible to keep our leaving a secret." Lívói replied, though Elsba looked disapprovingly at the other dwarrowdam. Likely, Raven thought, she didn't want her or the boys to know such details. Personally, Raven didn't understand why having such information was harmful.

"King Thorin's rallying the guards and the Company though, they're fighters all." Elsba interjected, clearing trying to end the conversation. "And, we'll just stay here until the fighting's over,"

"But why wait here? We can fight!" Raven insisted. In the back recesses of her conscious she knew she should be more respectful to Elsba. Given their current situation, however, she found she didn't care.

"Aye, we can," Lívói answered when Elsba failed to take charge. "But, we dwarrowdams are best used as a last defense. The dwarrow will be out there, competing for glory on the field. If anyone should slip by them, or if this is a diversion, then our guard will not fail."

"I still don't like waiting," Raven glared, crossing her arms.

"I know, but none of us do and, if we were out there, we'd just be under their feet. King Thorin is a renowned warrior, he will lead them better without having to worry about us." Elsba attempted to comfort her.

"If the fighting comes inside, I'm going to join them." Raven resolved. Elsba made an unintelligible noise in the back of her throat. Raven had to admit, it was likely an indulgent amusement of sorts.  _Just wait and see, I'm not going to stay here and get trapped or slaughtered,_  Raven resolved.

* * *

In spite of the initial hubbub, however, Bag End soon fell silent. Raven and the boys, who were allowed to play a card game to pass the time and keep them quiet, were confused and anxious. The few footsteps and shouts had steadily died off. As Baldur shuffled the cards for the next round, they all looked at each other. Lívói and Elsba both stood by the door—armed and waiting. No one had come by to check on them, and they had moved furniture from the room, piling it high in front of the door.

"What's happening?" Elsbur whispered.

"No idea," Raven wanted to get to her feet—to go and find out, but she knew there was no way to get out.

"Don't worry, we had ample warning, and we've prepared. All we have to do now is wait them out." Lívói said, though something in her gaze made Raven suspect that she was just as nervous. Her One and her son, after all, were out there.

The minutes dragged by. Raven played cards distractedly—not even really caring when she lost. Her disinterest was a sure sign that she was otherwise distracted and worried. Neither of the boys though were paying enough attention to fault her for it.

* * *

Finally, after what had to be almost two hours, a crash and then a shouted battle cry jolted Raven back to alertness. She and the boys had given up on cards and even on whispering, finally curling up in blankets to sleep. Elsbur let out what sounded like a whimper as his eyes popped open while Baldur exchanged a look with Raven. She wasn't alone in wanting to be out there, she knew.

They looked to the two dwarrowdams—both Lívói and Elsba had their weapons out and ready. Raven was used to both of them smiling and mothering the three of them. Now, the expressions on their faces could have frozen water. They were warriors, Raven couldn't forget that. She felt a little ashamed about her earlier behavior. They were in here, ready to fight to the death, to protect her and the boys. Everyone in the smial was willing to make that sacrifice and she'd belittled it by trying to fight. She wasn't a fighter, it was true, and she shouldn't have insinuated that she was better than the others.  _But what about Bilba,_  she mused—Bilba wasn't in this room either, and she was hardly a warrior. Who was protecting Bilba now, or Kíli?

Outside of the room there were shout, and screams, of pain, along with the clash of weapons and armor. Raven fought a wince at the sounds of general destruction in the hobbit hole. Bag End might not have been her home for long, but its destruction didn't exactly sit well with her either. The pandemonium seemed to go on forever.

At one point, Raven heard something crash into the door. They jumped—she and the boys recoiling while the dwarrowdams readied themselves. Instead, they heard Nori's muffled voice through the door and a thump of a body hitting the floor. Raven stared at it as footsteps retreated back down the passage. Raven exchanged a nervous glance with the boys. What could possibly be happening that ended with Nori being thrown around like that? Had he just killed someone? Was there a body now in the hallway outside? She swallowed down bile as the thought percolated. This was what battle was—it wasn't glory or sport, it was life and death.

* * *

The noise had faded, but Raven's attention wasn't on the dying sounds of the battle. It also wasn't on the fact that they seemed to be winning. No, it was on the pool of blood seeping under the door. The blood from the dwarf that Nori had killed in their defense. It seemed clear now, seeing it that that was what had happened. Nori had been in battle with a dwarf, and he'd killed his foe before that dwarf could pose a threat to them. Raven had known that battles meant deaths, but she hadn't stopped to really think about it; not before. Baldur had seen the blood as well, though the dwarrowdams had been trying to keep them from noticing it. Elsbur, luckily, had not. Raven and Bladur were both doing their best to keep the youngest from becoming aware.

"Do you think it's over?" Elsbur finally asked, and both Baldur and Raven looked to the two dwarrowdams. They frowned, clearly uncertain as well. After all, no one had come and gotten them, and without the confirmation who was to say for certain who had won.  _What if they're still fighting, just further off?_  Raven worried.

As though answering their question, a knock sounded on the door. Moments later, Raven felt her heart jump in relief as she caught Bilba's muffled voice.

"You can come out!" Bilba called, "it's a mess, but it's safe, and we've all survived."

Immediately, Lívói and Elsba set to dismantling the barricade against the door. They made short work of it, and Raven was the first outside. She flew into Bilba's arms, ignoring the fact that her mother was sweaty and bloodstained.

"It's all over," Bilba promised, hugging Raven close to her. Raven felt herself breathe a sigh of relief—a tension she hadn't been aware of easing from her shoulders. Bilba ran a hand through her loose hair, and kissed her temple. Raven inhaled her mother's scent, taking comfort in her presence.

* * *

"Help!" Raven jumped in Bilba's arms, time rushing back as she heard the scream—the familiar scream.

"Primula?" Bilba frowned, looking around, "what is she doing here?" Primula screamed again, desperate by her tone of voice and Bilba let Raven go. "Stay here," she ordered before vanishing.

"Aunt Primula," Raven whispered, as her aunt screamed again.

Then, she was running after her mother. Behind her, Lívói shouted something, but Raven wasn't listening. All of her attention was focused on finding Primula.

She didn't have to go far. As Raven crossed the threshold to Bag End, she saw Bofur with his arms around a blood-stained Primula. Raven's eyes went wide with horror and it was all Raven could do to stare at the bloody corpse by Primula's side. A corpse, Raven realized with dread, that had large hairy feet. Only then did Primula's continued screams register.

"No, Drogo! Help him!" Raven's blood ran cold.

"Raven," Dwalin appeared, stepping in front of her—blocking her view of Drogo's body.

"No," Raven protested as Dwalin began shooting her back inside.

"This isna the place for ye," his accent was thicker than usual. Raven found herself mulling over the unfamiliar pronunciation, struggling to understand.

_No, your wrong, it is my place because this, it's all my fault,_ she screamed inside her head.

"No, it's no your fault. Now, go inside, it isna safe, no yet." Dwalin was saying, his eyes fixing for the first time on her—instead of scanning the area for danger.

"Wh-what?" Raven frowned,  _how can he know why to say?_  she wondered. Her distraction lasted long enough for Fíli to appear. Her cousin didn't listen to her, didn't feel her as she beat her fists in his back. Instead, he simply picked her up and carried her inside. Distantly, she heard crying.  _Primula,_ she thought,  _she'd hurting so much, and it's all my fault._

Fíli deposited her in Kíli's room. As her other cousin looked at her, Raven became only too aware that she could still hear crying. Then, she realized that the crying was her own.

"What happened?" Kíli demanded while Fíli steered her to sit on the bed.

"The hobbit from the smial, Primula, she arrived in the midst of the battle and her husband was killed. Raven saw him and Primula and became distraught. She's been claiming it's all her fault. Dwalin told me she's in shock and insisted I get her out of there. I brought her here so she wouldn't disturb the boys, but I'm not sure exactly what's causing her reaction. The death of a hobbit, and it was grisly, or something else."

Fíli's words caused Raven burst in to tears anew.

"Raven?" Kíli carefully inquired, "can you tell me what's wrong?"

"It's all my fault," Raven couldn't bear to meet his gaze, looking miserably into her lap while Fíli sat down on her other side.

"What's your fault?" he asked gently.

"I wrote to Aunt Primula because Ma wasn't and I wanted to see her! I'm the reasons he's here and Drogo's dead!" The confession tore from Raven and her tears redoubled.

"What?" Kíli asked, and Raven though she caught Fíli giving his brother a censuring glare.

"I know, it was stupid and selfish and if I hadn't then Drogo would still be alive!" Raven wailed in misery. Beside her, her cousins exchanged a helpless look and then she felt, rather than saw, as they both stilled.

"Raven," she hadn't thought she could feel worse, but of course Thorin had heard it as well.

_Now, he won't want me as his daughter. Now they won't want me to go to Erebor. I am foolish and selfish and those aren't qualities they admire._ Logically, Raven knew she was being over dramatic, but she couldn't seem to help the dark path that her mind was set on.

"Raven, look at me," she was so startled by the stern note in Thorin's voice that she looked up. He, like the others, was sweaty and blood splattered. In spite of his rugged appearance, however, he still was clearly in command. "You say you sent Primula a letter, asking her to come so you could farewell her?" he demanded and Raven felt the full scrutiny of King Thorin Oakenshield brought to bear on her.

"Yes," she managed to whisper.

"And that is why you are responsible for Drogo's death? Because if you had not reached out then they would not have come?" Thorin pressed, and she felt a flash of anger well inside of her— _is that not exactly what she confessed? Why did he need her to say it again?_

"Yes," she heard her hard reply.

"Look at me," he demanded, and she realized she'd dropped his hard blue gaze once more. She glared at him—willing this torture to be over and done with. "Did you write to Primula to cause harm?" she shook her head. "Answer me," he demanded; infuriating her.

"No!" she snapped.

"Did you know that she would come?"

"No," she ground out between clenched teeth.

"Did you think she would at any point be in danger?"

"Of course not,"  _this is pointless!_

"Did you know that we would be in danger here?"

"No more than before."

"So, you wrote to her because you love her, did you not? When you didn't know what she would do? And, when you didn't think such a missive would bring her to any harm? Given all of that, how  _can_  this be your fault?" Raven gawked at him. She would not admit that he had a point—couldn't admit that she might be innocent of this crime she'd created.

Instead, she stared at him, seeing the icy calm of rationality in his gaze and, hating him for it. Then, she the only thing she felt capable of—and burst into tears, again.


	32. thirty-one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The battle is over, but the repercussions are longer lasting—and there's more bad news looming.

 

**AN: Hi All! I'm so sorry about the mini hiatus—the summer got away from me and then the beginning of grad school's made writing hard. Please read and comment and thank you all for the kudos in my absence, the support really do help me to keep writing!**

* * *

 

_thirty-one_

Bilba

* * *

 

 

**Bag End, Hobbiton**

**21 January 2959**

 

When Bilba was a child the horrors that she’d seen during the Fell Winter haunted her. She’d been a young faunt at the time, and the sounds of the wolves howling outside of their door had kept her up many a night. Then, those dreams had faded and harsher realities had set in. In the wake of Bungo’s lingering illness Bilba hadn’t had the time to be afraid. Or, perhaps, it had just become a constant companion for her. She wasn’t really sure which. It didn’t matter anymore either. 

 

She’d survived. Then, once she’d finally recovered from the adventures of a lifetime, the Company had come calling. The dreams from that adventure still hadn’t faded. It had been years since they reclaimed Erebor, but the memories still haunted her. She’d been chased and around Middle Earth by various creatures who all tried to eat her. That had been undeniably terrifying. Then, it was the Battle of Five Armies that haunted her the most. Not even Smaug featured that often in her dreams and she’d stood face to snout with a dragon. 

 

The battle, however, was another beast. She hadn’t truly fought, not really. She’d survived. All the same, it seemed trivial by comparison to the many heroic feats she’d witnessed. She would wake sometimes, still smelling the blood, her ears ringing from the sounds of death. She would lie in the dark, feeling the gazes of the fallen on her. They’d stared accusingly at her on that day, from where their bodies fell in the midst of battle.

 

The battle for Bag End, as she privately thought of it as, was different. This time, she had stood beside Thorin on her own front doorstep. This time she wasn't lost in some crowd. This time her heart wasn't broken and her throat didn’t burn from where he’d dangled her over the ramparts. This time she'd fought for her home with her family at her side. Indeed, she’d barely had to step out her own door. When he’d built this smial, had her father ever imagine there’d be fighting in the front yard? Blood spilled inside the very hallways? She doubted it.

 

The battle itself had been anticlimactic in many ways. Thanks to the warning they had known the number of dwarrow coming. From there it had seemed almost easy—Thorin was after all far from an inexperienced leader. He had stationed the dwarrow and they’d been ready and waiting for their attackers.

 

Thorin had, naturally, wanted Bilba to seek refuge in the smialwith Raven. She had point-blank refused. When Nori had given her a small set of throwing knives, the point was, reluctantly, laid to rest. 

 

She wouldn’t say that she was an expert when it came to using the weapons, but she was far from incapable. The dwarrow had seen how good she was at winging the burning pinecones at their attackers. Then, while at Beorn’s house, Nori had decided that knives would be the weapon for her. Joined by Dwalin, the two dwarrow had set about ensuring that she could defend herself.

 

After the Battle of Five Armies, the set of daggers that Thorin had gifted her from the armoury had been lost. She'd used them and left them embedded in various corpses around the battle field. She regretted their loss, but it would have been impossible to collect them. Not only did she have no idea where they'd been but she'd also been avoiding detection. She’d assumed then that Thorin would have her put to death if she dared show herself. 

 

* * *

 

 

Now, with the fighting over, she took a moment to glance over her weapons. She stood in the hallway, waiting for the dwarrowdams to move the barricade. The waiting gave her a moment to run her fingers over the beautiful weapons. She’d have to clean them—Dwalin had been nothing if not strict about the proper care for one’s weapons. Dwalin. She smiled in memory. Back after the Battle of Five Armies he would have given her a stern talking to about discarding one’s weapons. At one point she recalled making up that conversation—longing for her dwarrow. Bilba glanced over her shoulder and caught sight of Dori and Glóin moving bodies out of the smial. At the same time Ori and Bombur passed by carrying buckets—no doubt to assist with the clean up. A warm rush of love for all of them washed over her. She had been more careful this time—and she didn't just mean with her weapons. No, she'd also promised herself that she wouldn’t take any moment with her family for granted. Making a mental note to take care of them later, she began carefully sheathing the knives. Inwardly, she promised herself she’d never be so careless with them again. They were, after all, the same set of daggers that Thorin had first given her. Apparently, he had painstakingly seen to their retrieval. In the chaos of coming to find her, however, only Nori had thought to bring them. Good old Nori, she smiled at the thought of the spy. He had always had her back, long before anyone else realized her secret. 

 

She’d done a little bit of damage in this battle, but she’d been carefully kept away from most of the violence. Although she hated being taken as weak, the greater part of her was thankful for it. Killing dwarrow, even if they were attacking her, was different from slaughtering orcs. Perhaps it was the emotions in their eyes—she didn’t truly want to linger on it.

 

A muffled sound was the only warning she got before the door to the room burst open. Her daughter flew in to her arms and Bilba enfolded her in a tight hug. 

 

_This is why I fight,_ Bilba mused to herself. Before, during the Battle of Five Armies, Bilba had been fighting to protect the Company. She'd fought for Thorin regardless of what he thought of her at the time. Back then, however, she hadn’t really cared what happened to her. She hadn’t known about Raven at that point and her family had cast her out. As a result perhaps she had been a little more reckless than was strictly necessary. With Bag End under attack, however, Bilba’s focus had shifted: protect her daughter. No matter what was required of Bilba, so long as Raven was safe that was all that mattered. Raven wouldn’t be safe so long as any of those dwarrow survived. Bilba hugged her daughter tight. She knew Raven was speaking, but she wasn't paying attention to the words. A powerful rush of relief surged through her—all focused on Raven's current health.

 

A terrible scream interrupted their embrace, and Bilba jerked away from Raven. 

"Stay here," she ordered her daughter. Then, she turned and raced out toward the source of the noise. As she skidded to a halt on the doorstep, Thorin reached out and deftly caught her. Then, the awful scene registered. A hobbit was covered in blood. For a moment she almost didn't recognize Primula. Then she did and the scene registered. Primula fought, struggling as Bofur pulled her away from a bloody lump—a body. Bilba sagged, swallowing hard while Thorin supported her. She had never known Drogo well, but the dark thatch of hair and Primula's presence told her it had to be him. She felt her stomach drop, reaching out to squeeze Thorin’s hand. He turned, and for a moment their gazes met—silently exchanging fears. She leaned down and kissed his bloody knuckles, and he pulled her close. They remained that way for a moment as Bilba steeled herself. Then she pulled away from Thorin, going to her friend and embracing Primula as she grieved. Primula’s swollen stomach pressed against her and Bilba cursed the situation. She’d meant to reach out to her cousin, to let her know about their departure, but she hadn't. Things had happened too quickly and since it was still so dangerous she hadn’t wanted to drag Primula in to it. 

 

Raven’s scream from the top of the stairs, cut in to Bilba. It seemed to wake the rest of the dwarrow as well. Dwalin and Fíli went immediately to her daughter’s sides—pulling her away from the scene. Bilba turned to look at her daughter, wishing she could protect her from this horrible scene. Staring at her, however, it all clicked in to place. Raven had been keeping a secret from her, given the horror and guilt on her face Bilba could guess what it was. It wasn’t by chance that Primula arrived on the evening when they were leaving. _Stupid,_ Bilba cursed herself. Primula had been the only other family Raven had known up until the dwarrow’s arrival. Of course Raven wouldn’t want to leave without farewelling Primula. _If only I had thought to explain,_ Bilba mourned, her own stomach churning.

 

“Get her out of here!” Bilba ordered, meeting Fíli’s gaze. The golden-haired Durin nodded and carried a still-protesting Raven inside. Bilba fought a shudder as she continued to hear her daughter’s anguished shouts from within Bag End. 

 

Turning back to the situation at hand, Bilba swallowed back her bile. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen gore like this before—the Battle of Five Armies had been worse, much worse. However, it had been a battle field, everyone had known—had been prepared for death. She’d stood hours before on her doorstep and looked over her dwarrow, preparing herself. She hadn’t had time to think of Primula or Drogo and now it was too late. He was gone and she could do nothing to ease her cousin’s pain.

 

She gently tried to ease Primula back towards the smial. Primula refused for a moment, and Bilba followed her cousin’s gaze to the bloody body. Drogo was barely recognizable, Bilba noted with an odd detachment. Still, she stared in silent apology along side Primula. _It’s horrible_ , she decided, _because I knew him_. Ignoring the stickiness of blood under her feet, Bilba refocused on Primula. She felt the fight leave the hobbit and stumbled slightly as Primula’s legs gave out under her. Bofur was there in an instant, scooping Primula up and offering Bilba a sad smile.

 

“Put her in the bathroom? I’ll help her clean up.” Bilba murmured and he nodded. She followed behind him, feeling exhausted and not at all strong—as she knew she’d have to be for Primula’s sake.

 

“Bilba, _Ghivashel_ ,” Thorin stepped forward as Bofur disappeared in to the smial.

 

“Can you check on Raven?” she asked softly and he nodded. With that small peace of mind, Bilba followed Bofur down the hall to the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

 

She spoke softly to Primula, uncertain of what she was saying. She remembered though the way that Beorn had once talked to her. He’d carried her in his arms part of the way through Mirkwood, when she had no energy to even sit astride a pony. She knew that he had felt her pain—and shared it. He had also lost family and he had understood what they dwarrow meant to her—what their loss cost her. As much as he might hate dwarrow he had approved of the way that they had treated her when they stayed with him before. Now, she tried to remember the way that he had soothed her aching soul—and did her best to impart that comfort.

 

“Bilba,” she looked up, drawn from her careful attention to Primula’s hair, by Tauriel’s soft address. “ _You should go to Raven_ ,” Tauriel murmured, and Bilba was glad that Primula had never taken to Sindarin.

 

“ _Can you stay?_ ” she asked and the elf nodded.

 

“ _Of course, I will do what I can too to ease her pain,”_ Tauriel promised. Bilba shot her a grateful glance, then turned to Primula.

 

“Raven—” Bilba began.

 

“Go,” Primula interrupted her, turning part way towards Bilba. “She needs you.” Bilba might have protested under other circumstances, but her daughter needed her.

 

“I’ll be back and Tauriel will stay with you in the meanwhile,” Bilba explained, but Primula just waved her off.

 

“Help your daughter, Bilba. I’ll be fine. Please, let her know it’s not her fault? I know she thinks the letter she sent brought us, but we were already planning to come. We wanted you to know about our—“ Primula stopped. Bilba swallowed hard as the hobbit set a hand on her pregnant belly. She looked over at Bilba then and their two gazes met. Bilba nodded, understanding without having the words to respond.

 

“I’ll let her know,” Bilba nodded. 

 

She took a moment outside the bathroom, before going to Raven, to collect herself. She hadn’t expected so many memories to come rushing back, but they had. She swallowed hard. The battle and Primula’s loss were harsh reminders of the aftermath of the Battle of Five Armies. She'd once felt so lost and that overwhelming sense of grief and anxiety threatened to return.

 

“Bilba,” she turned to see Dwalin peering at her, his eyes bright and knowing.

 

“I’m fine,” she insisted—answering his unasked question.

 

“Good for you then,” his reply surprised her. “Because I know I’m not fine. Far from it. I still have nightmares of the battle and the aftermath. It was a time of living nightmares. No one would blame you if you felt the same.” She stared at him. 

 

It was times like these when she wondered about Dwalin. Somehow though he always seemed to know what you were feeling. Bilba licked her dry lips, nodding mutely when her throat tightened. Although she might not be able to verbalize Dwalin nodded back, understanding. Then, he stepped forward and reached around the back of her neck—drawing her forehead gently to his. She leaned in to his embrace and felt a rush of warmth. She’d never forget the violence with which he and Balin had first greeted each other. Still, since the Company had begun to accept her she’d been introduced to this gentler version. Since their reunion, however, there had not been so many open displays of affection. She suspected it was because all parties involved worried about overstepping boundaries.

 

“Go to your lassie, but know I’m always here if you need to talk,” Dwalin murmured and Bilba nodded again. Then she gathered her emotions and turned down the hall to find Raven.

 

* * *

 

 

When she entered the room Thorin looked over—imploring and helpless. In his arms, Raven was crying and Bilba sighed. Her daughter was stronger than most children her age, but there had been a lot going on. She should have expected something like this and she should have warned Thorin of it too. Bilba stepped in the room and Thorin relinquished Raven to her care. He might be the most fearsome warrior she knew, but tears had always been his downfall. She remembered his helplessness whenever she’d shed a tear. Or, rather, it was helplessness after he’d realized that his burglar was a ‘she’, not a ‘he’.

 

“Ma,” Raven collapsed against her. Bilba ran gentle fingers through the thick soft curls as she held her daughter.

 

“I know,” she murmured. Leaning down, she kissed the crown of Raven’s head, hugging the comforting solidity of her daughter’s body. Some part of her felt as though Raven hadn’t change all that much since she first held her daughter. The girl was still so solid and warm, with a sweet scent that Bilba recalled from her childhood. As she clutched Raven to her bosom, she could not help but berate herself. Bilba knew that she was guilty herself of treating Raven as more mature than her age. It was a crutch honed after years of being forced to rely on Raven’s help at the smial. She had imagined that, with Thorin’s return and their move to Bag End, they would be able to treat Raven as a child. _Perhaps,_ Bilba reflected forlornly, _we did._ It seemed however, that once more it was their efforts to keep Raven away from everything that had ended in this.

 

It took a while for Raven to calm. Bilba wished she could take away her daughter’s pain, but that was impossible. Instead, she could only be there for her daughter. Quietly, Fíli and Kíli settled in—waiting for Raven to calm while Thorin hovered over them. He was helpless and clearly unwilling to admit that he could not protect them from this grief. Bilba hid her smile as she snuck a glance at him. He had never been emotional, but there was panic in his gaze now. She knew his weakness but seeing it still warmed her. Although she knew better, a small part of her still clung to her fears that Thorin would be an inadequate father. She should always have known better, she figured. 

 

“What happens now?” As Raven quieted, Fíli turned to Thorin who started out of his own reverie.

 

“Happens?” he repeated, looking over to Fíli with blank confusion.

 

“Are we still leaving?” Fíli pressed. Bilba glanced at Thorin, waiting for his reply, but he did not respond.Bilba caught as Fíli glanced momentarily at Kíli. Then, she glanced back at where Thorin was rubbing a hand over his face in a gesture of clear exhaustion.

 

“We’ll need to sleep first, we’re in no condition to leave and it’s dark and cold anyways.” Bilba reasoned, looking to Thorin who gazed at her with a tired smile.

 

“You make good points, _Ghivashel,”_ he smiled at her. Bilba in turn felt a tingle connection that she hadn’t quite felt since Thorin’s return. By the time that they’d arrived in Lake Town, Thorin had taken to trusting her. Back then, they had all listened when she said something—she was their queen. Since their return he’d been deferent, they all were, but it wasn’t the same. Once they'd worked together—a team. Now he watched her, courted her, and feared her rejection. 

 

“So we’ll leave in the morning then?” Fíli concluded cautiously, looking questioningly at both of them.

 

“Yes,” Thorin nodded. “That should do.”

 

Bilba frowned, hesitating due to Raven’s proximity. Then, decided to stop trying to protect her daughter so much. “We’ll need another day, if it can be spared,” she murmured.

 

“Why—“ Kíli began, and then his eyes widened as Thorin and Fíli caught on.

 

“Of course,” Thorin murmured. “We’ll go the day after then.”

 

The stayed for a while longer in quiet reflection. They took solace in each others’ company and waited for Raven. When her soft snores began to fill the room, however, Thorin stepped forward.

 

“She can come with me,” Fíli said, and Thorin paused—about to pick up his daughter. He caught Bilba’s gaze for a moment and she nodded. Fíli and Raven had a special bond—she’d feel safe with him around.

 

Thorin stepped back and Fíli moved closer, scooping Raven up in his arms and bearing her from the room.

 

“When she wakes,” Bilba called softly after them and he froze without turning back around. “Primula asked that I tell her that she doesn’t blame Raven. She and Drogo were already on their way. I didn’t have the time to mention it, but perhaps if the time is right?” 

 

“I’ll pass it on,” Fíli agreed and then he disappeared down the hallway.

 

“I believe Tauriel’s with Primula. I can go and fetch her,” Bilba offered looking back to Kíli who looked thoroughly exhausted.

 

“It’s fine,” he gave her a weak smile. “She has been feeling as though she needs to be doing more.”

 

“Are you sure?” Bilba asked, frowning slightly. Usually, the two couldn’t be kept apart.

 

“She’s being helpful,” Kíli shrugged listlessly and Bilba suddenly understood.

 

“You’re not a burden, Kíli,” Bilba glanced at Thorin who was frowning as well.

 

“You’ve had a battle in our home and I can barely keep my eyes open when I’ve done nothing but lie in bed!” Kíli exploded.

 

“Kíli,” Thorin warned his nephew, stepping closer to Bilba—and she hid a smile. He’d become so protective of her, even amongst the Company.

 

“Thorin,” Bilba warned in turn, placing a soothing hand on his arm. He seemed to deflate slightly—realizing what was happening once more. “Kíli, we’ve all been exactly where you are. Injuries, we promise they won’t happen but we are nothing if not prone to trouble.” That earned a little laugh from Kíli.

 

“At least you are,” he teased her.

 

“Me?” she scoffed, feigning offence. “You should be saying that to your uncle.” She sniffed primly and Kíli paused, taking a moment to reflect on the point she’d raised.

 

“I might have to agree,” Kíli stole a glance at his uncle. Bilba was reminded sharply then of the way that both his nephews looked up at him. 

 

“Thorin, Bilba,” she jumped at the sudden appearance of Tauriel in the doorway. The elf, spotting their surprise gave what seemed to be a sheepish look of apology.

 

“What is it?” Thorin asked.

 

“Lord Elrond’s sons are here,” Tauriel murmured. 

 

“Why are Elladan and Elrohir here?” Bilba muttered half to herself. Already though she was pushing out of the room towards the yard where she assumed they were waiting.

 

“ _Ghivashel,_ ” she heard Thorin following behind her, but didn’t stop. Her stomach knotted with dread. The twins rarely came and never had arrived at this hour. _Perhaps they had heard the battle and come_ , but Bilba’s gut twisted in foreboding. She knew better than to ignore the feeling by now.

 

“Bilba,” Elladan greeted her as she appeared and the two bowed low.

 

“We apologize for arriving so late,” Elrohir apologized as they straightened. 

 

“It is of no consequence, come in, come in,” Bilba waved at them, suddenly feeling a wave of exhaustion rushing over her. “What’s brought you here?” she asked as they all trooped in to the living room. 

 

As the dwarrow caught on to their presence she noticed more members of the Company appearing. The rest of the dwarrow had retreated to the garden. There was not enough space for them in the house, but everyone was still up and alert. She’d ignored the few warriors who had appeared in the front yard with the twins.

 

“I am afraid it is a matter of urgency,” Elrohir murmured, looking tactfully around the room.

 

“Whatever you have to tell me can be said in front of everyone here. I trust them all with my life. They are my kin.” Bilba glared and both elves looked suitably chastened. In the meanwhile, the rest of the Company appeared—coming out of their evident hiding places.

 

“Our father sends us to summon you at once. The Lady of Lothlórien has sent a warning, the enemy is stirring.” Bilba felt a chill in her stomach and fought the urge to go and look for the Ring. It was safe for now, back in Rivendell where she had left it, but she understood the problem. Elrond had warned that it could not stay there. He had said it would not be safe, and already Bilba had abandoned it there for some months.

 

“What does this have to do with Bilba?” Dwalin demanded cooly, glaring at the elves.

 

“Everything,” they jumped as one—at least everyone except for the twins. Bilba’s eyes narrowed at the new intruder.

 

“Gandalf,” Thorin’s voice was downright glacial.

 

“Thorin, it’s good to see you,” Gandalf made an attempt at cordiality, but it was weak at best. Thorin on the other hand was not alone as he stepped toward the wizard.

 

“Not now!” Elladan looked to Bilba—who was rather loathe to interrupt them. “Bilba, he has come to see you safely to Rivendell and we need him to protect you. We must leave at once.”

 

“It’s true,” another familiar face and Bilba’s dread rose higher.

 

“Estel,” she acknowledged her friend. For all of them to be on the same side she knew that this confrontation would have to wait. “Thorin,” she moved to his side. She knew that he acknowledged her though he did not waver as he continued to glare at Gandalf. “They’re right,” she glanced around the room, “now is not the time. We have a common enemy, and it will do no one any good if we are here fighting amongst ourselves.”

 

“And who exactly is this enemy?” Balin interrupted, meeting Bilba’s gaze.

 

“The Dark Lord Sauron,” Gandalf replied and Bilba felt the room flinch collectively.

 

“That’s not possible,” Dwalin protested, but it was a weak statement at best.

 

“He was defeated,” Fíli confirmed quietly.

 

“He fell, and for a time he was defeated. However, we chased him from the North right before the Battle of Five Armies. Since then, in these past years, he’s regathered his strength and now his servants have been called to him. The nine have left Mordor, they are coming.” 


End file.
